Sweeten the Bitter Dregs
by Vathara
Summary: Getting out of Kongokaku alive took everything they had. Hunters, refugees, survivors; and there was that little matter of torches back in Kongokaku... Now what?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress, not mine. Title from a bit I ran into in an old SF book; "sweeten the bitter dregs of grief."

* * *

Rattle and bump. Regular. Soothing. None of the rapid-fire teeth-clacking vibration that meant Yukina was pushing the Koutetsujou to its limits, or the extra thump of momentum from pulling another train full of Hunters and Kabane. Just the normal rumbling hum of their home on intact tracks, making good time away from disaster.

 _Home_ , Ikoma thought fuzzily, blinking through the dark at the metal shelf above his bunk. Had to be the locomotive, he knew that little nick in the steel overhead. Just as he knew the breathing from hammocks around him, or the silent presence, sharp as a blade, standing near the head of his bunk. _Who'd have thought home would be somewhere on wheels_...

Shift in vibration. The first soft hiss of brakes tapping on. "Why are we slowing down?"

"You're awake again?"

Kurusu. Indigo hair properly up again, if a little ragged at the ends; he should tell Kibito to go at it with scissors. Properly dressed - and that was definitely Kurusu, fighting-formal even in the middle of the night. Ikoma blinked, feeling as if he were missing something. "Again?"

"You've been in and out a few times." Kurusu unshielded a candle lantern, turned aside just enough to not blind either of them. "Lady Ayame has ordered a stop so the survivors can pray for their dead." His face was set in grim resolve, just a little crinkle of eyes giving away that the bushi was well and truly fed up with someone. "So... both groups of survivors can pray."

"The Hunters." For a moment Ikoma's whole world flashed red; how dare they take refuge on the Koutetsujou after Iwato Station, and Kongokaku-!

"Uryuu traded Lady Ayame a safe route out, for passage," Kurusu stated. "And where to find us."

That... made sense. Damn it. Lady Ayame had to put lives first. "Just keep them away from Mumei."

"We're keeping them away from both of you." An amused flick of dark brows. "It's not hard. Uryuu's settled what's left of his men in a car away from Kongokaku survivors. Eight Hunters, some of them wounded, all of them exhausted... they know when they're outnumbered."

Hah. He'd just bet Uryuu did. The Hunter might have been crazy enough to follow Biba through unleashing Kabane on helpless stations, but he wasn't an _idiot_.

But there was something much more important than hate-blind murderous Hunters on their train. "I need another restraint-"

"Mumei found you a ribbon." That might have been a hint of a smirk on Kurusu's face. Maybe. "It's green."

So that was the silky tickle at his throat. Not nearly as strong as the steel neck-guard he'd worn, but if it worked for Mumei...

How _did_ the restraints work, anyway? It didn't make sense. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd studied what was known of how the blood carried viruses to build his life-saving rig. Anything that really kept the Kabane virus from reaching their brain ought to stop blood as well. Which was _exactly_ what he'd counted on.

 _There are reasons people think it's a curse_.

Sometimes the Kabane infection spread slowly, over days; maybe from a bite, maybe a cut hit by fresh flying blood, no one was quite sure. But most of the time it spread fast, washing over its victim in purpled skin and glowing veins in a matter of minutes. Far too fast to be disease, or even most poisons.

 _Fast as a catalyzed chemical reaction. Like dropping pyrolusite into hydrogen peroxide. Whoosh_.

And if it _was_ a chemical reaction, then if he could just halt the blood to the brain until the reaction ran out, and the virus had used up everything it needed to kill...

He'd gambled. And it'd worked.

 _Well. Sort of_.

But if he hadn't cut the strangulation the moment the infection retreated, he wouldn't be a Kabaneri. He'd be dead.

The steel collar he'd worn until yesterday, the ribbon he was wearing now - neither of those would keep anything from reaching his brain. So... why was he still himself? Was the virus dormant, the way Mumei thought? Had it just used up whatever it catalyzed, and his current diet of blood and water hadn't put more back into his system? Were the virus and the Kabane even the same _thing_ , once you'd been infected?

 _More things to ask Mumei. If she knows_. "I was thinking of something a little more sturdy," Ikoma muttered. "In case someone tries to take my head off."

"Worry about it tomorrow." Kurusu held out a familiar red-banded bamboo tube.

 _Didn't I just have blood yesterday?_

But the hunger was there, if only a low growl through his nerves. Sitting up, Ikoma reached out-

The sling caught at the stump of his right arm, stinging a little. The Kabaneri sighed, and reached out with his left hand.

 _Warm_.

Not warm like soup; though salty copper was free-flowing in a way that meant it'd been in someone's veins just a few minutes ago. Likely Kurusu's, given the extra wrap on his wrist.

A different sort of warmth. Like an extra blanket draped over him on a long watch, or sweet buns offered with a wink and a grin.

 _Like Tanabata, with everyone sprawled together to sleep and not caring, because... we're family._

Blood was caring. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to admit that.

 _Well, maybe to Mumei... Hozumi. Have to ask her what she wants us to call her_...

Ikoma grimaced, and shook his head, fighting the urge to let his eyes slide shut. "Sorry. Sleepy... is everyone okay?"

"We're healing." Kurusu's eyes narrowed. "So are you. Sleep. And stay in the locomotive." He paused, as if the next words had to be dragged out with tongs. "Lady Ayame needs her rest. She'll sleep more soundly knowing you are safe."

 _We're healing_. But not all of them would. "Takumi..."

"We'll pray for him." Kurusu took back the empty tube, tucked an unbanded tube of plain water in with his sling, and pulled the quilted coverlet up to his shoulders. "I'll wake you in time to add your prayers. Later."

He wanted to keep his eyes open. At least long enough to take more than a sip of water. But the blood was warm. And they were home. "You need sleep too..."

* * *

"He's right, you know." Kibito kept his voice low as Kurusu moved away from Ikoma's bunk. The younger bushi's ears were good, and sometimes he thought the Kabaneri could hear a bat whisper. "You do need sleep."

"Later."

"Now," Kibito said firmly, catching his friend's shoulder before a stray track-jostle could take Kurusu off his stance. "Or don't you trust us to look after him? He's trusting us to look after _you_."

From the blink he got back, more felt than seen in the lantern-light, Kurusu hadn't even considered that.

 _Steamsmith, samurai - they're more alike than they ever want to admit_ , Kibito thought, amused. "You need to set an example for the men. Everyone knows steamsmiths live on burnt tea and gear grease, but bushi are supposed to be a little more refined. You know, not passing out right on top of your lord's heir just because you fought your way through two hordes of Kabane, an army of vengeance-mad soldiers, and a Nue in the last two days." He paused. "Though I think Lady Ayame just wishes she could have caught you all by herself."

Oho, there went the glowing blush. Those two were so much _fun_ to watch.

Well. Sometimes fun. Sometimes a little sad and worrisome. Sixteen, noble, her uncle Dogen Makino one of the Elders of Kongokaku itself - Ayame should have had swarms of offers for her hand by now. But the lone surviving heir of Aragane Station... no lord's son had wanted to marry into the Yomogawa family as a _yoshi_ for a station so close to the front lines against the Kabane.

Now Aragane Station was fallen, and Yashiro, and they were all ronin, borne up on the steel wave of the Koutetsujou. So far the Yomogawa name and the crew's fierce determination to keep their Hayajiro running had buffered them from being cast out as penniless refugees, but...

 _Keep everyone alive first. Then we'll worry about how to evade lordly proprieties_.

Heh. They were already evading full inspections, after all. What inspection team would believe a Kabane had stabbed Kurusu with a sword, and not left a lingering infection behind?

 _Over a week healing, but it's still obviously from a katana thrust,_ not _an innocent little repair accident,_ Kibito thought. _Every station so far has had bushi doing the inspections; there's no way they'd believe it was from anything but combat. Damn it. We_ can't _let someone lock Kurusu in for three days. He's our best sword, and Ayame needs a bodyguard now more than ever._

 _...And at that, we'd be_ lucky _if they believed it was from the Kabane. If station lords thought Kurusu got that stab in Kongokaku, they'd wonder who he was really fighting, and that'd just be the perfect end to all our days, wouldn't it?_

 _Kami, please don't let our bad habits breach quarantine_.

Thank the kami for the Kabaneri. With Mumei and Ikoma able to sense the virus before a person fully turned... everyone slept just a little easier.

 _Huh. And thinking of_. Two steps, and Kibito sat down on Kurusu's bunk with him, the better to keep the younger man from fleeing sleep. "Is there more in that sling than yesterday?"

A slight nod. "Mumei thinks with enough blood, he'll heal." A dark scowl. "Which is why we need to keep him here. Out of sight. Those idiots from Kongokaku-!"

Kibito thumped his shoulder. Gently. "We were idiot refugees too, once."

"Not like them."

Oof. There went the hard blue eyes that were Kurusu as bristly aggravated bushi, facing a threat to his lady and men. And crew, too; though Kibito wasn't sure his friend realized how entwined the bushi and steamsmiths had become. They were Koutetsujou's crew now, all of them; and if anyone hadn't picked up a wrench or a steam rifle, it was only a matter of time.

 _Cut one, and all of us bleed_.

Worse, Kurusu wasn't wrong. In Aragane Station... well, no one had liked to think about the Kabane swallowing them. But everyone knew it could happen. When the Fusojou had breached the wall, Aragane's survivors had followed the wisdom hard-earned from the few rescued souls of other fallen stations: pick up all you can carry, flee to the lord's manor. And when Mumei had opened a path to escape, they'd _run_.

 _We had a plan. We knew what to do. But Kongokaku, the Shogun's own city - they thought the Kabane would never touch them_.

Some of the Kongokaku survivors were all right, if shaken. Others... Kibito had issued quiet orders to the crew to keep an eye out for knives and panic. Kongokaku had prided itself on being _pure_. Untouched by the Kabane. People who ran Hayajiro, who had to face and fight the hordes through every mountain pass and abandoned station - they were as far from pure as a child of Kongokaku could imagine.

 _If they realize the Kabaneri are onboard, if they have any idea what Mumei and Ikoma are_...

The noble citizens of Kongokaku had nearly burned the crew alive when they _knew_ they were human. Lady Ayame had shamed them into stopping. But it didn't exactly speak well of their new refugees' chances of calmly, thoughtfully deciding that two souls tainted by the Kabane could be allowed to live.

"We have to get them off the Koutetsujou," Kurusu muttered.

Kibito raised dark brows. "Them? Not the Hunters?"

Kurusu gave him a searching look through the predawn gloom. "You said Uryuu told you where to find us, _after_ Lady Ayame had already agreed to let his survivors on."

Point. Kibito might not want to give Uryuu a steam rifle and a free shot at his back, but with Biba gone, the surviving Hunter leader had dealt honorably with them. So far. "Lady Ayame's going to discuss that more with everyone. Tomorrow." Kibito gave his friend a wink. "Come on. _Ikoma's_ got enough sense to sleep until he gets better. And I know you're more sane than a mad steamsmith."

That won him a resigned growl. But also a too-stubborn bushi tucked into his bunk to drowse, at least for a few hours.

 _Take what I can get_ , Kibito sighed, pulling a coverlet around himself for a nap. _Good luck getting him to sleep while we're stopped_.

* * *

Near the rail, Mumei snuggled deeper into tattered red hemp, watching the first pale-blue and gold streak the sky. Even for a Kabaneri, the winds on top of the moving Koutetsujou were chilly before dawn. But it was nice and quiet and free of idiots-

Mostly free of idiots, Mumei amended, rolling her eyes at the silver-haired Hunter following Lady Ayame out onto the deck. "Oh. You."

"Oi, little mosquito." Uryuu planted gloved fists on his hips. "That any way to talk to someone who brought the extra blood so your crazy stray Kabaneri can heal up faster?"

"It's not as good as Koutetsujou blood." Mumei fingered her kunai, wondering if Ikoma would want him stabbed. She'd have to ask, the next time he woke up. "I'll drink it. Ikoma should have better."

Ayame drew in a sharp breath, violet eyes sad as she stared down the Hunter. "Uryuu."

"Oi, oi!" The Hunter held up empty hands, blinking fast. "There's nothing wrong with it! We fought with Kabaneri, Princess. You think I'd let the doctors play when it came to keeping them fighting-fit? My men are _wounded_. The Koutetsujou was their only shot and I knew it. I wasn't going to take anything on board that would hurt the best fighters you've got."

Oh. That sadness was Ayame defending their crew. Mumei straightened in her borrowed cloak, warm all over. "He's right. There's nothing wrong with it. It's like the blood I always got with the Hunters. Koutetsujou blood is just better. Warmer inside."

"Inside?" Ayame looked between them, shoulders relaxing a little.

"The hell should I know?" Uryuu shrugged. "Kabaneri... they were the doctors' problems. And Biba's. I knew the basics. Feed them blood, stay out of their way." He slipped another wary glance Mumei's direction. "So. You're the one who said you wanted to talk in private-"

"Mumei is as private as I can let you have." Ayame gripped the rail with one hand. "If my bushi thought I didn't have any guards to speak to you, they'd be up here with swords drawn. But they know Mumei is here, so they won't."

"For a princess, you're a lot more bushi than you look," Uryuu muttered.

Ayame waited, sliding down the rail next to Mumei to take in the brightening dawn.

The Hunter huffed a breath. "Our deal was, you let us on board for a way out of Kongokaku. We're out. And a lot of your bushi aren't happy with us. What do we need to do to earn our keep to the next station?"

Mumei blinked. The way he was shifting on his feet, more than he needed for wind or rail-vibration-

 _He thinks the Koutetsujou would throw them off. Alone. Wounded. Without any help_.

Two weeks ago, she would have thought that too. What use was a Hunter, or a Kabaneri, who couldn't fight?

 _The Koutetsujou is different_.

"There are limits to what we can do for your men." Ayame was watching the Hunter, intent as Kurusu about to deliver a never-seen-before strike. "We were able to restock supplies at Iwato Station so everything would look normal, but with the refugees from Kongokaku... We can probably refill water at a tower or river. Other supplies will be tight. We have some medicine, and we have people who've learned to treat wounds." Violet eyes met hazel-gold. "But if you have any of the virus and poisons Biba's men used on the shogun's audience, _they need to be destroyed_."

"Lousy way to die," Uryuu muttered, after a long stare. "I had anyone carrying that junk ditch it before we drove for the station. Last thing we needed was someone cutting themselves by _accident_." He straightened. "If you want our weapons, I want my men protected-"

"We'll check your weapons," Ayame cut him off. "Once we're sure they're clear, you get them back."

That stopped him again. Mumei leaned on the rail, interested. This was a fight like Kajika in the market; words and intent, not bullets.

 _Ayame's stronger than she looks_.

"Most of your men are injured, but some of them can still shoot," Ayame went on. "We can't isolate and protect any of the cars, there are too many people on the Hayajiro. We need steam rifles in every car, and people who know how to use them. If you want to stay in a car away from those of Kongokaku, then help defend it."

From the way Uryuu's eyes widened, Ayame had pinned him in a very nasty hold. Interesting. What had he been expecting? The Hunters were _trained_ , the Koutetsujou needed every steam rifle they had, it wasn't like they were idiot townsfolk who'd cheer the Hunters one day and shut the gates the next-

 _The Koutetsujou... aren't townsfolk anymore_.

Mumei hugged herself in Ikoma's cloak, feeling oddly adrift. _But if they're not townsfolk, and not Hunters - what are they?_

Well. They were _hers_. And if Uryuu crossed them, he'd find that out the hard way.

"Our maps show there's a tower close," Ayame stated. "If it's clear, we'll stop for water. And prayers." She paused. "We have wood to spare for a second fire."

 _Gut-punch_ , Mumei realized, as Uryuu stiffened. _He never saw it coming_.

"You'd let us build a prayer fire." Uryuu rolled the words around in his mouth, like they tasted funny. "After Iwato, and Kongokaku-"

"What you did was horrible." Now Ayame's gaze was hard. "I know how the stations treat those who face the Kabane. But there were innocent people inside those walls! You had to know what would happen."

Uryuu looked away first, chafing bare upper arms. "Yeah. Well. It's done."

"Yes, it is," Ayame agreed sadly. "But Biba's gone. Your men are still alive. And none of us will last through the next Kabane attack if we can't trust each other."

"You..." Uryuu wiggled a finger in his ear, as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard either. "What?"

"Of course, we couldn't expect you to trust us right away," Ayame went on. "Many of my people are very angry with you. Ikoma wants your Hunters to stay _away_ from Mumei. And - we all miss Takumi."

 _Yes. We do_. Mumei fingered the edge of her kunai, wanting to stab someone all over again. She missed the panicky steamsmith. More than she'd ever thought. And Ikoma missed him like a hole in his heart, missed him enough to _leave his glasses_ , and that was just _not right_.

Kurusu might be stuffy and fussy sometimes, but she could forgive a lot, seeing him leave clear and green glass in with Ikoma's things.

"Sahari was an idiot." The Hunter was eyeing both of them up and down, like he was trying to see them for the very first time. "You don't shoot a guy brave enough to stand in front of his friend. You point them both at the Kabane-" He cut himself off, shifting on his feet. "There's no way you can trust us, Princess."

"Can I trust we have a deal until the next station?" Ayame raised her chin, fearless. "We don't know what might have been radioed out of Kongokaku, and there are limits to what Hayajiro personnel being examined can do without getting shot. But if you leave the Koutetsujou, you have my word that we will try to make sure you leave it alive."

* * *

"Wait," Ikoma protested, having given up trying to keep Kibito and Kajika from fussing with his sling. Even if the bushi was now adding a padded glove to just peep out at the end, which was absolutely ridiculous. Unless, of course, Mumei's smirking explanation actually was meant to explain. "What do you mean, _it'll grow back?_ "

"We are half-Kabane." Mumei gave him a frown of _this should be obvious_. "With enough blood, we regenerate."

"Which makes me think twice about your habit of collecting parts." Sukari lingered on the locomotive stairs; from that upward tilt of blond brows, all too glad to not be the victim of Kajika's fussing. "Not to mention all those Kabane our bushi beheaded and tossed out. Are they still wandering around out there like headless ghosts?"

"Parts don't grow whole new Kabane," Ikoma muttered, flexing his stump against the padding. Maybe it was a little longer than yesterday... but that could be wishful thinking. "I did my research before I ever started picking up pieces of blood vessels. Once the heart's destroyed, the Kabane is dead."

"But beheaded Kabane aren't dead." Mumei tapped a finger against her lips, dragging up yet more obvious facts that no one who wasn't a Hunter would have ever heard of. "They can't see, and they can't bite. But if they can tear someone open and pour the blood down the stump, they're still dangerous."

Ikoma froze. Traded a glance with Kibito, who looked almost as unsettled at the thought of Kurusu's beheaded Kabane wandering the tracks behind them.

"Good thing you reinforced a sword for him," Kibito observed. "We'll all feel better if he stabs them through the heart." He grinned at Sukari. "You're saving heart-cages for more, right?"

"When we find them..." Sukari frowned at bits of glinting metal Kajika had just fished out of Ikoma's bunk with wet eyes and a _hmph_. "What are those?"

"Someone being an idiot." Kajika swiped at her eyes, brandishing bits of steel. "What were you thinking, bolting on the piercing gun?"

"...That I had to?" Ikoma tried.

Kajika's flat look would have shriveled a market farmer like a dried-out lemon. It made Ikoma want to hide. Or find her that one green tea she liked as a change from steamsmith-black, because if he'd had a series of bad days Kajika had obviously had worse.

 _Takumi died. I nearly died. And that boy, I couldn't save him... She's hurt inside_.

"Your arm's growing back just fine," Kajika huffed, leaning in to poke at his streak of white. "Too bad your hair isn't! You're not going near scissors ever again!"

"But," Ikoma tried.

"No! You look horrible. Like a bushi tried to cut your head off, and missed."

Mumei was stifling a giggle. The brat.

Kibito didn't try to stifle his chuckle, apparently finally satisfied with the glove. Dusted his hands off, standing. "Come on, we wouldn't miss by _that_ much."

"Sahari did."

 _And Sahari had short hair, too_. Ikoma tried not to grimace in the sudden silence. "Next time, you can trim it." Oh, ouch, that wasn't what he'd meant to say-

"There'd better not be a next time!" Kajika fluffed his hair one more time, then reached into the toolbag someone had stashed in his bunk, and brought out a shine of clear and green.

 _My glasses. But - I left them_.

"Kurusu brought them." Mumei looked hopeful. "He knew you'd live."

Right. As if Kurusu was ever that optimistic.

It hurt, having Kajika tuck his glasses on instead of Takumi. The three of them had been together almost since the moment he'd made it to Aragane Station.

 _Takumi. If you see my sister - tell her to wait. Just a little longer. I can still help people here. I can still fight the Kabane. So... I will. As long as I can_.

It was odd, being on the prow of the Koutetsujou when it wasn't moving. Ikoma looked across the wye's tracks to the last car, noting the gap in their defensive curve around the water-tower. On the one hand, the extra space would make turning the Koutetsujou faster if they did have to bolt. On the other - no caboose meant that much less space to jam everyone in, and he'd heard quarters outside the locomotive were tight.

The reasons why space was so tight were down praying at the fire near the third car of the Hayajiro, mixed in with those folk of the Koutetsujou who'd lost kin to the Kabane at Kongokaku.

 _Why so far from the locomotive- oh. Right. All they've known is walls. Being able to see the tracks, to see outside with nothing between them and the Kabane but our steam rifles... it must be terrifying_.

That, or Ayame had put the Hunters' funeral fire by the locomotive so their bushi could _watch them_.

Or both. Or maybe some other reason he hadn't thought of. His arm didn't hurt, exactly, but it twinged and ached. Distracting. Especially when eating meant falling asleep.

 _Sleep later. Praying now_ \- "Oof!"

"Ikoma!" A horde of grabbing hands; small and warm, the way Kabane never could be. "Ikoma's okay!"

"He won't be if you knock him over." Kibito waded into Kajika's throng of orphans, plucking up one of the smaller ones to sit on his armored shoulder. "He's still on the injured list. And what did your big sister Kajika tell you about the injured?"

One of the taller youngsters, part of his dark hair caught aside, straightened and nodded. "Let 'em rest, even if they look bored!"

"Ah!" Kibito winked at Kajika. "She's so smart."

 _Kids_. Ikoma blinked, bemused, as the mini-horde swarmed him just long enough to pat him down and check he was really alive, then sat down for some serious praying. _Was I ever that happy?_

Though he wasn't sure _happy_ was the right word. Not with the sobs mixed in with the prayers, the youngest bar Kajika's back-slung baby cuddling up to Mumei like she was soft and warm as a kitten.

But at least they had each other. And Mumei, and Kajika. Not to mention, Kibito was just one of the bushi willing to get lessons in child-jutsu since Tanabata. Because they were going to hope again, and dream again, and build a place to raise families...

 _Takumi never got to court even one wife_.

Whole hand raised before him, Ikoma prayed for their dead.

Sunlight blazed with the fires, and maybe he was guiltily glad to have his glasses after all. The green lens cut the glare, the odd too-brightness of the world through his right eye; even becoming Kabaneri hadn't touched that wound. The same glare he'd faced since he'd woken among the dead in a swallowed station, blood on his head and his sister's corpse finally at peace.

 _Got too close to the charge. Idiot_.

Though given what Ikoma now knew about the Kabane, being knocked unconscious all those years back might have saved his life. Kabane chased their prey. They were looking for people running. And screaming.

 _So much screaming_...

Ikoma started, blinking away a daze as Kibito stood, gently setting his borrowed youngster back on the deck. "I need to trade off watches," the bushi declared. "You kids look after our steamsmith for me."

"Right!"

"I do not need looking after," Ikoma muttered.

Oh great, there went Kajika's folded arms of disbelief, echoed by at least four mini-terrors _and_ Mumei. What'd he done to deserve this-?

It was the silence of the vibration that caught his attention. The Koutetsujou was too massive to shudder when it was still, even if a howling windstorm had been bearing down. But he knew steel was moving, ever so slightly, as someone or _something_ climbed the stairs.

 _Someone_ , Ikoma told himself, trying not to reach for a gun that wasn't there. _Kabane aren't that graceful. And I'd have felt them_.

Kurusu climbed over the edge of the top hatch, silent as a shadow.

Kajika started, then breathed a sigh of relief. "Lady Ayame?"

"Most of the rites are done. Kibito can guard her for the rest."

Ikoma watched that bushi deadpan, and wondered when Kurusu had become so easy to read. "Couldn't stand them anymore?"

A twitch of indigo eyes told him he was right. "The lines are drawn harder than they were for us, even in Aragane." Kurusu sat on steel beside them, sword propped at his shoulder. "Bushi. Steamsmith. Townsman. Those from Kongokaku..."

"They're being silly," Kajika said firmly. "If maintaining your guns doesn't damage a bushi's honor, how can maintaining a Hayajiro do worse? You need that to fight, too!"

"Brother said they were stupid." Mumei reddened. "I mean..."

"It takes time." Kurusu's glance was level, serious as if he addressed one of his bushi. "When you find out part of what you always knew was wrong."

 _Not an apology_ , Ikoma thought, oddly warmed anyway as Mumei relaxed. _You can't know what you don't know. Not until you have proof_.

Kurusu looked at the main funeral fire, and let out a slow exhalation. "He was brave."

Ikoma's breath caught.

"Bushi are born to be brave," Kurusu went on. "We're trained for it. Taught our duty all our lives. But Takumi was brave. Even when his teeth were chattering."

"Of course he was brave," Kajika nodded. "He had to keep both of us looking at reality. Back in Aragane, a steamsmith..." Her shoulders hunched, as she looked down.

 _Wouldn't ever be a teacher_ , Ikoma finished silently. Maybe a master of apprentices, but someone who taught children to read, write, and figure? That was a town job, or a bushi one. Steamsmiths were too busy keeping everything running to trust them with building a future. Everyone said that.

Which was half the reason Takumi had thought creating jet bullets would never work. Any steamsmith who'd spent that much of his time inventing something instead of fixing Hayajiro and pressure canisters was automatically suspected of being not quite right.

Er. That, and the whole, _trying to shoot a Kabane point-blank is freakin' insane_.

"He was a good shot." Mumei leaned her chin on her hand. "Eventually."

One of the kids clapped her hands. "He knew how to make pinwheels!"

Ikoma leaned back, listening to how they'd all seen his best friend. It was good to know other people had loved him too. Even if it hurt, knowing he'd never get to trade another elbow-jab again-

" _Terrible form!"_ Three of the kids chorused.

Oh, kami. Could he just sink through the hull now? Ikoma knew Takumi had been telling the tale of their encounter with the idiot bushi in Shitori Station, how could he not, but he'd somehow hoped that _Kurusu_ hadn't heard it...

The samurai actually looked amused. "So you were paying attention. Good. In a few days, you start training again."

From the look on Mumei's face, Kurusu had just handed her the _best guns ever_.

"What?" Ikoma blurted out. "I mean, kenjutsu is bushi-"

"From what I've seen, one day you'll end up in a swarm with an empty pressure canister." Kurusu looked completely unruffled, as if he hadn't just suggested upending all bushi custom without Mumei pushing him into it kicking and screaming. "Also, Mumei says it took you several shots to hit the charge in Yashiro Station. Your aim needs work."

Kajika's hand flew to her mouth. "Kurusu!"

"No, he's right," Ikoma admitted. "I maintain rifles. I ought to know how to shoot them better." Though Mumei being here reminded him of something important. Something he almost remembered about the fight with Biba, like trying to grasp shreds of a dream. Or maybe it was just the prayer fire, reminding him of the Shitori temple where Mumei had remembered her real name; the one her mother had given her before the Kabane had come and Biba had lied to sway a child into believing only the strong survived. "Did - did you still want us to call you Mumei? Or Hozumi?"

Brown eyes went very wide. She blinked, and looked away.

"It's okay," Ikoma started, "I shouldn't have-"

"You could try Hozumi." She looked a challenge at everyone else on deck. "Only with us. To everyone else, I'm the Koutetsujou's bodyguard!"

Which got the kids huddling closer. Weird.

 _Better her than me_. Because now eyes were on him, expectant...

"I wish he hadn't been that brave," Ikoma whispered. "He said... he wished he'd stood in the way of Kurusu's bullet the first time, that he was ashamed he hadn't... but I didn't want him to! Why should he try to die for a Kabane? And we didn't know I wasn't. We didn't _know_."

"But he knew you were a friend." Kurusu nodded. "Ikoma. You cannot choose another man's honor. No one can." He paused. "Not even a bushi."

* * *

 _Funerals are done, Yukina says the repair crew's checked all of the undercarriage so we don't have any more problems with the accelerator, and the water-tower is full_ , Ayame ticked off in her mind as she and Kibito climbed up to join their somber friends. _Sukari's going to check if that needs maintenance; who knows who else might have to divert this way with Kongokaku destroyed_...

"Lady Ayame." Kurusu stood and bowed as she approached.

"It's good to see you all." She waved the others back down; Mumei was spending more time than usual sleeping, and Ikoma still looked pale as a ghost.

 _And they all miss Takumi._ I _miss Takumi. I didn't know him well, but - oh, the stories about Shitori Station's bushi made everyone laugh. We needed that_.

Though hopefully Minister Yamazaki hadn't taken that incident too badly. They needed to find another station for supplies soon. Shitori might be one of the closest.

 _If it's still alive. After what the Hunters did to Iwato Station... we didn't see anything wrong when we left, but would we have? We'll have to ask Uryuu - but even he might not know. Biba was smart. Damn him_.

Very unladylike. But somehow, she didn't think her crew would care. "So long as there's no threat, I think we should just stop for a few hours. I know, we should be making time to the nearest source of supplies... but with Kongokaku swallowed, all the Hayajiro runs will be in disarray. We need to take some time to look at what maps we have, and decide what the best route _is_. I don't want another mountain run." Ayame smiled at them, though it felt bittersweet. "Even with jet bullets."

"I think that's something we can all agree on," Kibito said wryly. "We're set for ammo for the moment, but too many big fights without time to make reloads, and we'll be down to coated katanas." He _hmph_ ed. "Right now, the only treated blades we have are Kurusu's sword and Mumei's bayonets. If the maintenance crew didn't find enough pieces cleaning under the Koutetsujou, we might have to go looking for a small horde to shoot. We need more of those heart-cages."

-  
Hand on the first rungs up the locomotive's ladder, Dogen Makino tried not to sputter. He was a hardened samurai, an Elder of Kongokaku who'd survived years of war before the Kabane appeared, and all the long bloody years after. He'd kept his head in artillery barrages, horde swarms, and Biba Amatori's own insane assassination of his father and shogun. He did _not_ flinch at mere words.

But what little he knew of Kibito had shown him a very steady, plain-spoken young samurai, not prone to wild flights of fancy. If Kibito had said that - had suggested _deliberately hunting Kabane_ \- and no one was laughing...

Loudly clearing his throat, Dogen climbed the rest of the way, exiting into the sunlight to face wary and worried gazes. "As the surviving Elder of Kongokaku, I would prefer not to bring my people near any more Kabane. Even if you are confident in these jet bullets."

"Don't worry." The young brunette wrapped in tattered red hemp looked at him as if she were deciding how fast she could take him down. "The Kabane will find us."

Cold-blooded youngster. How had his niece picked this girl up?

Though for the moment, there were more important things to discuss.

"Elder of Kongokaku?"

And Ayame had hit on one of them straight off. Good. "This is a good spot to talk," Dogen mused. "Everyone below can see us, but not hear us... Ayame. I know as well as you do that the Koutetsujou follows your command. But we both know my people look at your age, and your lack of rank as heir to a fallen station, and wonder why I haven't taken the master key yet."

Not that he had any intention of trying. Even if it hadn't already been a bad idea, the amount of lethal intent currently staring at him might have rocked a Kabane back on its heels. Child to bushi, those atop this locomotive meant to protect Ayame with their lives.

Which was incredibly _odd_. Bushi were trained to be that fierce. But the look he was getting from the pale young man with a blue sling, an odd green ribbon at his neck, and what had to be a townsman's borrowed shirt... where had a _steamsmith_ learned to project lethal intent?

"Lack of rank?" Kurusu had the calm, furious look of a samurai deciding it wasn't worth his time to draw his sword. Yet. "Did they miss what happened to Kongokaku?"

"I still have a hard time believing it myself," Dogen said frankly. "It will take time. Things might go more smoothly if I could provide an explanation for some of Koutetsujou's odder ways. For one... even in the short time I've seen you work together, my niece, it's obvious you've knit them tightly to your loyalty. It doesn't surprise me you would go to great lengths to retrieve lost survivors." Especially Kurusu; though Dogen had no intention of opening that cage of birds until he'd had more time to work out Ayame's possible marriage prospects. There might be a better match for his surprising niece among the living stations. Maybe.

Dogen cleared his throat again, looking at the three the Hayajiro had gone to such lengths to rescue. Kurusu, the steamsmith with mismatched glasses and an odd lock of white hair, the cold young girl with orphans and a female steamsmith huddling close to her, even in warm sunlight. What could they possibly have in common? "I know all three of you were inspected. But I and my people do wonder how you came to be lost in a Kabane-swallowed city... and survived."

"We came to stop Biba's monster." Ikoma's voice was low. Matter of fact. "The Koutetsujou wouldn't have escaped the Nue alone. So we destroyed it."

Short. To the point. Slightly insane. Which was beginning to sound like the Koutetsujou all over. Dogen had seen that monster assaulting Kongokaku, eerie glow sprouting from it like wings in the night. And three people had stopped it?

"Kurusu was knocked from the Hayajiro when Biba took us by force at Iwato Station." Ayame settled her hands demurely, a lovely young bushi lady who would no sooner bend than steel. "Biba drugged Mumei there; she was one of his fighters, and he wasn't pleased that she had ties to people who wanted nothing to do with his insanity. And Ikoma was thrown from the Kokujou when he led the assault the night before we reached Kongokaku."

Not nearly enough of an answer... wait. A _steamsmith_ had led the breakout attempt? And Ayame's bushi had followed him? Dogen had heard pieces of that story, but he hadn't believed it. Wary, obviously injured and ill; Ikoma didn't look like a man anyone would follow. Even if he had been bushi.

"Fortunately, Ikoma's injuries weren't as bad as Biba's men believed." Steel glinted in Ayame's gentle eyes. "They expected him to die. But he made it to shore, and Kurusu found him."

"I had taken one of Biba's researchers captive, so we knew the thrust of his plans," Kurusu stated. "We bound our wounds, and went to stop them." He drew a breath. "We couldn't catch up before the monster was unleashed."

Which was neatly avoiding how they'd caught up at all. "The city was surrounded by Kabane," Dogen pointed out.

"We were armed."

That was the most bushi non-answer of an answer Dogen had heard in a long time.

"Kurusu's the most skilled samurai we have," Kibito said heartily, "and Ikoma figured out how to give us an edge."

Dogen raised a wary brow. So, under Kibito's calm and level exterior lurked a sly sense of humor-

With a bow, Kurusu presented his blade for inspection, exposing two thumb-lengths of lava-veined black metal.

Dogen stared at that newly-familiar glow, and shuddered. "This... is from an iron cage?"

"You have to refine it, or the coating won't be strong enough to pierce the heart cage," Ikoma stated. "And it's not just iron. There are other metals, and something organic. If we had a proper metallurgist..."

"We have you," Ayame said firmly. "Find out what we need to do it better, and we'll look for that at the next station."

Kurusu sheathed his blade, calm as if he weren't carrying a weapon made from dead enemies. "With these, close combat is possible."

Close combat. With _Kabane_. Dogen didn't know whether to give his blessing on the spot or lock his beloved niece up until she found someone far less insane. "And... the two of you...?"

"We shoot them." Mumei smiled. "With jet bullets, it only takes one shot."

"We avoided as many fights as we could," Ikoma said practically. "If you're not screaming, sometimes they don't notice you."

At least one of those three had a sense of his limitations. So Dogen could reassure his people what Ayame's lost trio had done was unlikely, and ill-advised - but certainly not impossible.

Though that did leave one worrying loose end. "You said you had one of Biba's doctors," Dogen noted. "Where is he?"

Kurusu had a very thin smile. "He created the monster. He wanted to see it. We let him go."

In the middle of Kongokaku, infested with Kabane. How... appropriate.

Dogen didn't try to hide his relief, even if it was half a growl of frustration. "If Biba weren't dead, I'd shoot him myself. That insane broadcast, that there were Kabane undetected in the city! It'll take weeks for us to kill the rumors."

He carefully hadn't asked too many questions on exactly how Biba had died. It was enough to know someone in Ayame's service had solved the problem. No need to cause any more trouble for the refugees than they already had.

Ayame sighed, white sleeves fluttering. "I'd hoped the Kongokaku people would realize that wasn't true, once we were away and no one else turned."

 _As if mine were the only ones listening?_ Dogen gave his young niece a disapproving frown. "It's not just my people. Your own seem to have latched onto it even more tightly. What the bushi won't say, what your steamsmiths stop talking about when my warriors come by - even some of the seamstresses were talking about _Kabaneri_."

He wouldn't have heard that if he hadn't been deliberately eavesdropping. He'd been so proud to know Ayame's folk were making her a new dress even with everything else that had gone wrong, properly offended that the shogun had made their lady dress in _death-color_ , and they were going to fix that-!

And then some low-voiced mention of a youngster who couldn't keep a shirt on, it was going to get him shot - and that frightening, rumored _word_.

 _Kabaneri. Corpse-person. Yes, townsfolk can be superstitious, but how can they think that's even possible?_

And why had it seemed as though the two steamsmiths flinched?

Red fluttered as Mumei huffed. "That's completely different..."

Not his imagination, Dogen realized, horrified. Ikoma had definitely flinched, the lady steamsmith had shifted so she was between Dogen and her companion, and everyone else was giving Mumei a look of mingled worry and utter exasperation.

Mumei shrugged, and gave him a brilliant, young smile. "Oops?"

"Ayame." Dogen couldn't ask. He had to ask. His people's lives depended on it. "What is a Kabaneri?"

Ayame braced herself, and any hope he'd had it was just a rumor died.

"They're the Koutetsujou's protectors," his niece said steadily. "They're part of our crew. If it weren't for them, no one would have survived Aragane's fall. They're _not dangerous_ , Uncle."

From Kibito's mostly-hidden smile, Dogen doubted _that_.

"We're keeping it quiet so your people don't panic," Ayame went on. "I don't want them being shot at!" Her voice caught. "They've been hurt enough already."

Dogen drew himself up, determined. "Ayame, I need to know-"

"We are existences between human and Kabane." Mumei stood, dark eyes watching him as intently as a samurai gauging her first strike. "We can strike with their strength. We can sense them coming. But our minds are human."

Impossible. It couldn't be true.

But - Ayame had said Mumei was one of Biba's warriors, and she'd helped fight through an entire infested city... "Biba was researching the Kabane," Dogen said, shocked. "Ways to defeat them, to fight them on their own ground... did he _create_ you?"

Mumei stared a moment more, then nodded. "I survived the operation. Ikoma, too. We are Kabaneri. We exist to destroy the Kabane."

"He was insane," Dogen breathed.

The brunette steamsmith's fingers clenched on her uniform. "Don't say that!"

"Kajika," Ikoma murmured.

"Well, he shouldn't!" the female steamsmith said fiercely. "It's not your fault, or Mumei's! There's nothing wrong with living when everyone else thinks you should have died!"

Fierce young woman. Though Dogen was rather more concerned about the two bushi carefully _not_ eyeing him as if they wanted to cut him up for stew. Whatever these Kabaneri were or weren't, they'd apparently convinced the leaders of Ayame's bodyguards that they were _loyal_.

 _They went with Kurusu to face a monster that would have doomed us all. They may well_ be _loyal_.

Even so. Part _Kabane_. "If word of this gets out, there will be a riot," Dogen said flatly. "What can I possibly tell my people-"

"You tell them nothing." Kurusu's eyes were cold. Dangerous. "He's our steamsmith. She's one of our rifles. That's all."

Mumei squinted. "Why not tell them? If they're fools enough to _want_ to die."

"But it wouldn't just be you fighting them," Ayame said gently. "Everyone of the Koutetsujou would protect you. People would get hurt."

Mumei frowned, but nodded. "Then we won't tell them."

So the vicious little creature would rein in her bloodthirst for Ayame's people. Good. That left the... steamsmith. The half-monster who'd armed Kurusu with a blade that could kill Kabane, and apparently meant to craft more. A _steamsmith_ , touching a samurai's honor. Dogen didn't know what to think.

Ikoma's pale hand came up, rubbing at the bridge of odd-lensed glasses. "I wish we could just get it _over_ with."

"Well we can't," Kibito folded his arms, a cheerful armored _end of discussion_ , "so get used to Kurusu thumping you with a bokken."

Dogen choked. Surely, they couldn't mean that!

"It will kill the rumors," Kurusu agreed.

"It's hardly appropriate!" Dogen sputtered.

Ayame hid a smile with her hand, politely demure. "But riots are so _very_ inappropriate, Uncle."

"And it will stomp the rumors," Kibito put in. "Who'll have time to whisper about hidden Kabane when there's a Koutetsujou steamsmith beating up Kongokaku bushi with a wooden sword? How unseemly, Aragane Station was part of the front lines too long, none of them know what's _proper_ anymore."

The most annoying thing about that, Dogen realized, was that Ayame's bushi was likely right. A steamsmith learning kenjutsu would be an outrage, a _scandal_ \- and a real and present human to stare at. What were a few odd words, next to that?

Ikoma buried his face in his hand. "You act like you think I can beat them."

Kurusu shifted his shoulders, not taking his gaze off Dogen. "You will."

Kami, they were planning to go through with it. Which meant as an Elder, it was his duty to bring decades of experience to this mess before it went any farther. "Ayame. I trust that whatever your... allies... require, you ask no more than your people can bear. But I cannot allow you to ask it of mine." Because the two half-Kabane must need _something_ unnatural, or the Koutetsujou wouldn't be forced to defend them so fiercely. Whatever it might be - he was better off not knowing. Gratitude and honor only went so far. "And someone _will_ talk. You can't hide them forever."

Ayame drew in a sharp breath, shoulders stiff. But held her ground.

"We don't have to, Elder," Kibito said bluntly. "Just long enough to get your fire-loving citizens _off_ our train."

So that was how the wind blew? Best to remind all the younger ones of reality, then. "Your train?" Dogen arched a brow with all the capital's elegance. "This is a Hayajiro. Where are you planning to go?"

Ayame shook her head slightly, bewildered. "That's what we need to talk about, Uncle, to plot the route to the next station-"

"No station," Dogen said deliberately, "will take in two _half-Kabane_."

Mumei tensed, as if the girl wanted something to fight. Kajika reached out to her, the youngsters echoing her move until the Kabaneri was surrounded by defiant eyes.

Dogen nodded slightly, grimly satisfied. Perhaps now his niece would see what she risked. "And if word should travel that you carried them among you - no station would let you enter, any of you." He raised an open hand, all too aware that Ikoma and the two bushi watched his every twitch. "So I will do my best to quell the rumors, for my own people's sake. I agree; those of Kongokaku should certainly leave this Hayajiro. Before it becomes a deathtrap for you all."

Credit to Ayame's training; she hid most of her flinch, though that had to be a blow to the heart. "The Koutetsujou has kept us all alive!"

"And how long can that last?" Dogen said gravely. Somewhere near the base of the tower he heard a yelp, but what the steamsmiths might be up to was nowhere near as important as making Ayame _listen_. "Kongokaku has fallen, and other stations; all the schedules are cast awry. Even if you _can_ keep them hidden, fewer and fewer stations will risk supplying hungry strangers. Your engineer carries no cargo, you have nothing they want-"

Ikoma blinked, head jerking toward the water-tower, and suddenly Dogen knew he'd lost them.

"Kabane?" Kurusu asked swiftly.

Ikoma shook his head, but kept staring, puzzled. "Something... moving?"

"Small. Yellow. A lot of them." Mumei frowned, peering toward the bottom of the metal tank, and then the agitated group of steamsmiths backing away from the foot of it, as an odd droning hum whispered through the air. "Are those-?"

"Lady Ayame!" A blond steamsmith hit the ladder, climbing halfway up before shaking out one of his hands with a vicious curse. Dogen could see a red welt blooming on skin even from the top of the locomotive. "We've got a problem!"

* * *

It was good to get out of the locomotive for a while, Yukina thought, peering up at wing-covered wavy bumps of waxy comb suspended from the bottom of the water tank. Even for something as crazy as wild bees.

She wasn't the only one taking the chance to gawk. At least half of those who'd been praying at the fires were staring up, some gaping. Yukina frowned, then glanced outward, to the rifles standing guard on the circling steel of the Koutetsujou. One or two of them stole a glance toward the swarm, but even they turned their attention back to a proper watch after a few seconds to be sure no one was dying. And from the locomotive, Mumei waved.

 _No Kabane yet, then. Good_. The Koutetsujou's conductor shook her head, taking a step back to eye Sukari as he wrapped one stung hand. "You're off fight cleanup until after that heals."

The blond steamsmith squinted at her. "It's fine-"

"We haven't lost anyone to a contaminated wound since Shino. And I want to keep it that way." At least they all _hoped_ that was how Shino had been infected. If she'd been bitten in the escape from Aragane Station and hidden it...

 _No need to think ill of the dead_. Yukina sighed. _There are reasons for the inspections. Sometimes, if you've come too close to the Kabane, even ordinary wounds carry the virus. Sometimes they don't. I wish we knew why_.

So far the Koutetsujou had been _incredibly_ lucky. Not one soul lost to anything but the Kabane, and human evil. Of the two, Yukina preferred the Kabane. No lord complained if you shot _them_.

Sukari blinked, then smirked. "Does this mean no more climbing into the undercarriage?"

"Wear gloves when you do that," Yukina deadpanned, catching a glimpse of blue armor next to too-fragile white silk and a longing violet stare upward. "Lady Ayame?"

"...Honey." The Yomogawa heir caught herself before she licked her lips.

Kurusu, Yukina noted, amused, was carefully looking anywhere else. Aww.

"We can get some of it, can't we?" Ayame went on, eyes still fixed on the buzzing mass. "I mean, I know you can't leave the hive there, not if we want to be sure the tower's maintained - and we _have_ to do that, it wouldn't be responsible to leave a problem for a Hayajiro that might be in worse shape than we are - but we could save some of the honey? For the young, and - well, everyone."

Yukina's brows climbed. Honey. Huh. She hadn't even thought of that; just a big, waxy, stinging problem. But here they were on short rations with no sure date for resupply... and honey was _food_.

Not to mention if she could sneak off - er, _secure_ a pound or so for Suzuki, the engineer would quite possibly hug her to death. He hadn't had a chance to make a good mead in ages. Not that anyone would be drinking it until they were off-duty. But when they were - the Koutetsujou's steamsmiths had _earned_ some drunken hangovers.

Movement caught her eye, a swagger of leather, and Yukina made her smile slip away to an engineer's neutral cool. _And here comes part of the reason why_.

Uryuu, and the sad Hunter with a sling and a bushi ponytail, strolling up to peer at their buzzing problem. "Huh. That's a big one."

Ayame finally looked away from the promise of sweets. "You've seen hives like this before?"

"They like shelter and water." Shading his eyes, Uryuu studied curves of darker wax. "Yeah, not the first one we've snatched off a water-tower."

That raised Yukina's eyebrows. But the Hunters were Lady Ayame's problem. Unless they went after another steamsmith. She almost hoped they would.

"Snatched?" Kurusu gave the Hunters a cool look. "It would be useful to salvage some of the comb before it's destroyed-"

"Bushi. Shoot and burn everything." Uryuu smirked, but gave Ayame a cautious glance. "Why not just take it? A good hive can be worth a lot at a station."

Yukina kept herself from drawing a sharp breath. Funds. Money for parts. Repairs. Medicine. _Everything_.

Ayame drew herself up straight. "How do we do it?"

" _We_ don't," Uryuu said flatly. "Grabbing a hive is tricky to do right. Not something you can learn all in one shot. You _help_ us." He squinted up again, like a steamsmith calculating tensile strength on a crucial piece of wire. "I need part of a car we can screen off, some time to talk to my men... and a really big box."

* * *

"All right." Uryuu looked over what was left of his flying squad. Of all the Hunters Biba had led. There'd never been many, but eight still alive out of over three hundred... it hurt. "Is there any reason we shouldn't give the princess and her crew honest work for our keep? I want to know."

Adjusting his sling, Masahide shook his head.

 _One down_. Not that Uryuu had expected otherwise. Masahide might have left being a bushi behind to follow Biba with the rest of them, but Ayame Yomogawa was a lord's heir. And the way she'd pulled everyone together to rescue her strays had to have anyone raised on bushi loyalty perking up.

Not to mention, cute. If not armed enough for Uryuu's interests. Though he had overheard something about a steam bow...

Still. Masahide was in. The others, Uryuu was less sure of. Choki, Asao, Hirosada; they all had a stare like they were a thousand yards away, and jumped at odd shadows. Asao in particular worried him; hair straying out of neat bangs, a few tears leaking when he thought no one was watching. Nariaki... eh, Uryuu planned to keep an eye on the guy's stubble. If it got worse, he'd talk to the older man. Tomio was twitchy, fingering his tuft of beard almost every time he adjusted his headgear, but at least the guy was here and now. And Eishun, who'd been a steamsmith once, still wore a scarf, but definitely wasn't just a gearhead anymore-

"The Kokujou," Eishun said fiercely, touching the toolbag at his side like he wanted to take a wrench to someone's skull. Or maybe just rush back to their poor abused bikes. You could never be sure.

Yeah. That was the big grudge; the one Uryuu'd honestly expected to come up sooner, only every last one of them had just been too bone-deep tired to _care_ they were riding on the Koutetsujou. Riding with the people who'd destroyed the Kokujou, the Hunters' own home base; Biba's black steel Hayajiro, deadly and massive as a bolt from the heavens. Stuffed to the gills with weapons, ammo, crazy doctors, and one beating Kabane colony heart.

Uryuu hadn't seen the Kokujou derailed. He'd been too far away, getting the wounded he could out... which was the only thing that'd saved them.

Too far to see, but not too far to hear. He still wanted to shiver, remembering that unearthly, impossible _screech_ as inhuman power flung the whole damned Kokujou up and off the tracks-

Everybody had heard the explosions. Hell, Kabane the next station over had probably heard the boom.

So whenever the press of bodies on the Koutetsujou got too much, whenever Uryuu looked at station folk and overheard whispers about murdering Hunters, he caught himself and beat the anger back into its cage. Because harsh as it was, Ikoma had done the world a damn good turn. When the Kokujou went, all Biba's crazy scientists had gone with it. No scientists, no colony heart, no Black Blood. And between the Nue and Ikoma, he never wanted to see another Kabaneri on Black Blood as long as he _lived_.

"Sahari threw the Kokujou against one really ticked off stray Kabaneri," Uryuu said flatly. "You don't have to like Ikoma. But if you go after him, make sure it's just you who's stupid. Don't be like Sahari, and bet everybody's lives that you're tougher than one crazy steamsmith." He swept them with his gaze. "Anything else?"

"They can't trust us." Tomio straightened his headgear, as if he were getting ready for a combat ride. "They're _station folk_. They saw what happened to Iwato. And Kongokaku."

Yeah. And wasn't that the rock they were all trying to swallow? One thing to know people who lived in stations were cowards, hiding behind their walls and bushi lives. But having to shoot a kid who'd been bitten, because kami damn it, there was _nothing else you could do_...

He must have been quiet too long. They were all looking at him. "Boss?" Masahide asked.

"Aragane Station died before they ever ran into us." Uryuu touched his harness, glad for the reassuring weight of steel against his back. Much better than that weird itchy feeling that the bushi princess _meant_ it: on the Koutetsujou, they were safe. "Yashiro, too. The stations we led Kabane into - they weren't _their_ stations. The Koutetsujou lost people because of us, but... not like the Kongokaku did." He grimaced. "Now, _those_ are station folk. Don't turn your back on them."

Nariaki ran his fingers over his steam rifle, apparently not quite sure he'd triple-checked it enough since the Koutetsujou had given them back. "Boss. They're all station folk."

"Oh yeah?" Uryuu jerked his head toward the rifles standing guard on the steel ring of the Hayajiro around them. "What's that look like to you?"

Because he knew _exactly_ what those guards looked like. Station bushi would all be facing outward, sure the walls would keep any Kabane from biting their backs. Station bushi wouldn't be watching the ground, the gaps between cars, stray lumps and bumps of terrain that might dislodge a slumbering Kabane that'd suddenly scented prey. Station bushi wouldn't always have one guy keeping a friendly eye on the Kabaneri, waiting for the twitch that was the first warning of _incoming horde_.

Most damning of all - _station bushi_ would be up there with the rifles. Right now? About a third of the Koutetsujou's armed guards were _steamsmiths_.

"The princess' people may hate our guts, but they know they need to survive out here," Uryuu declared. "That's what we wanted. Make the station folk face what's out there. Make them fight the Kabane. No walls. No excuses." He sucked a breath through his teeth. "Well, _they're fighting_."

That got even Asao to blink. Good.

"I say we help them," Uryuu forged on. "I say we _teach_ them. Show them what it takes to fight. To live. Because if a bunch of station refugees on a Hayajiro can learn that..."

Memory rose up and choked him. A night drenched in blood, and the screams of dying children.

"If they can learn that... maybe they deserve to live," Uryuu finished.

 _Maybe we all do_.

* * *

"Easy... easy... lower it!"

Kurusu stood upwind of the smoke with Ayame and Kibito, deliberately ignoring stray bees buzzing by as he kept an eye on Hunters and Kongokaku refugees alike. So far there hadn't been any trouble as Uryuu's men and a dozen of the more venturesome Koutetsujou townsmen went to work; smoking the nest, using pole-strapped saws and ropes to cut away honey-rich outer combs, and now carefully sawing down the inner core of queen, brood, and what Uryuu said should be enough honey to support the hive in their new woven-bamboo box of a home.

"Should we just stand here?" Lady Ayame asked under her breath. "We could help-"

"We are helping, Lady Ayame." Kibito's voice wasn't any louder. "As long as you look like you're sure there won't be any trouble, then there won't be."

Kurusu kept his face set, bodyguard neutral, and hoped Kibito was right. Smoke, flying bees, the ever-present reality of being _outside the walls_ \- all it would take was one dropped comb to set off a panic. And if the Kabane showed up...

He blinked away a stray skirl of smoke, updating his mental map of exactly who was where and how many people he'd have to knock down to drag Ayame into the locomotive. His lady would hate that - but of everyone on this Hayajiro, the Yomogawa heir was the one soul they _could not_ lose.

 _I need to go over that with Ikoma and Mumei. They're not bushi. They don't understand. Yet_.

And speaking of the Kabaneri... Kurusu glanced up at that still-visible blue sling, and decided. "Kibito. Start loading everyone."

His old friend's brows rose, but the burly samurai didn't argue. "Better let Uryuu know we're not leaving them," Kibito said casually, moving off. "The Hunters are twitchy."

"Of course we're not leaving them!" Ayame kept her voice down, glancing between the lowering comb and the locomotive. "What's wrong?"

"Possibly nothing." Kurusu inclined his head, falling in as escort as Ayame headed for the Hunter leader.

"Down, a little more..." Uryuu waved a hand their way. "Don't get too close. Not until the lid's on. What?"

"We're loading," Ayame informed him. "Please don't worry. It just takes time to load people who aren't used to Hayajiro. So we have to start sooner than you would have."

Uryuu let a breath pass as most of the mass of angry bees finally vanished into bamboo confines. "Lid on, don't squash any if you can avoid it." Lower, "I'm going to guess I should be worried."

"We've been stopped a long time," Kurusu said bluntly. "Ikoma's wounded. His friends should make him rest. But he's still up on watch."

Now Uryuu did glance at them. And past, checking what ears were listening. "If he sensed any Kabane, he wouldn't just be _watching_. You're being twitchy."

He would not grit his teeth. "Twitchy," Kurusu said flatly.

Uryuu shrugged. "We'll speed it up."

"You will?" Ayame looked between them, brows creased as she read the unspoken clash of wills.

"Twitchy's enough," the Hunter declared, peering up at the angle of afternoon sun. "Didn't realize how long we'd been stopped. Better to move."

"Thank you," Ayame said honestly. "I'm glad you show so much concern for all of us."

Uryuu blinked.

Kurusu kept his face straight, even as amusement, irritation, and pride in his lady all fought for ascendance. Ayame was as dangerous as any bushi. That her blade was words and a smile made it no less deadly.

Still. _Twitchy_.

* * *

Kurusu at her side, Ayame stood just inside the hatch of their sixth and currently last car, watching the Hunters and her people satisfy themselves that the buzzing box was secure against any sudden shift or near-derailing. Refugees who'd been in this section hadn't been eager to move, and those in other cars had been even less happy to crowd up to take them... but the first pieces of sweet comb offered to those boarding had smoothed most of the rough edges of pride. And gotten folk boarded faster, which made her breathe a silent sigh of relief. Maybe it really was just Ikoma and Kurusu being twitchy. But she remembered their last night at a water-tower herself, and in some moments it was all she could do to hold a calm smile and ignore the clutch at her heart of _we've been still too long_.

Odd. For the first sixteen years of her life she'd never gone anywhere save by horseback or her own two feet. Now... if the surface under her feet wasn't shifting, wasn't a rumble of tracks-on-gravel or the comforting echo of tracks-over-bridgework, it felt - strange. Uncertain.

 _Is this how Yukina and Suzuki feel when we stop?_

She didn't know all her steamsmiths yet, not as well as she knew her bushi. Though she was starting to learn them. But from words dropped here and there, Suzuki had been a young apprentice taking shore leave off a foreign freighter when the Kabane had first swarmed over the countryside. He'd never made it back to the harbor. A wave of refugees had swept him onto a Hayajiro, and he'd stayed with the armored trains ever since.

According to Sukari, Suzuki actually thought he'd come out lucky. After all, if even one Kabane made it onto a ship at sea...

Ayame pictured the nightmare that would have unfolded, and held back a shudder.

 _It's past. Focus on now_. "How did you learn to do this?" Ayame wondered. Caught Kurusu's own subtle twitch of curiosity, and pressed on. "We never knew much about the Hunters, but... none of what we heard said anything about bees."

"I'll just bet they didn't," Uryuu said darkly. "Your stations were glad to see us fight the Kabane, Princess. Oh, they cheered a lot. Even gave us ammo, sometimes. Why not? Meant _they_ didn't have to use it. But feed a bunch of scruffy ruffians that staggered in off a train? Well... I'll just bet you know something about _that_ , by now."

That... hurt. Because it was true. Feeding her people was a constant worry; and if it gnawed at her after only a few weeks, how had it been for the Hunters? If it hadn't been for Ikoma's jet bullets, who knew how negotiations might have gone at Shitori Station.

"So we learned a few things," Uryuu shrugged. "Kept us going. Kept us fed."

"Especially bees." Eishun's voice drifted out from under one of the extra boxes of honeycomb, as the Hunter's steamsmith helped a Koutetsujou cook make sure every nook and cranny was bee-proofed with glue. "Should have seen Biba's face the mornings he couldn't get his sweet tea. Scary as a Kabane!"

"Worse," Uryuu smirked. "Kabane don't get _sarcastic_." The half-smile faded. "I should have known something was wrong when they had us sell the hive a few stations before Shitori."

"Boss..."

"I should have known," Uryuu said harshly. "He never meant to get out of Kongokaku."

Ayame tried not to let relief wash over her face. _We can trust them. At least until the next station_.

Because that was honesty. Painful, but real.

 _He's still blaming himself, not Biba. But Mumei... Hozumi needs time to believe that, too_.

One step at a time. First, she should give Uryuu a moment to recover. Something all the Hunters could take pride in, and step away from Biba's shadow. "You must have found more to live off of than honey," Ayame reflected. "What else did you do?"

That won her looks of surprise from the other Hunters in the car. Asao and Choki, Ayame thought they were called; from the distance in their gazes, she wouldn't have put them up on watch with rifles, either. She just hoped Masahide would be careful to strap on if they had to move. She knew well herself, the top of a Hayajiro was no place to be with an injured arm.

Hazel-gold gave her a narrowed look, as if Uryuu thought the question had to be a trick. "We're _Hunters_. We don't just hunt Kabane."

"We didn't hear anything about you in Aragane Station," Ayame said mildly. "I've asked my people; Sukari's one of the few who knew anything before we got to Shitori, and he didn't know much." She paused. "And I don't want to ask those from Kongokaku."

Uryuu's gaze drifted a little. Checking Kurusu's reaction to her truth, she was sure.

 _It is true. But can they see that, after Biba lied to them so deeply?_

"We hunt," Uryuu said, a little less gruffly. "There's plenty of game out there if you're a good shot. Some herbs and farmer's plants gone wild, too; we look for those if we've got a spot with a clear field of fire. But mostly we hunt. Meat's always good, and if you get hides to a town they'll trade back finished leather."

More honesty. Ayame smiled, feeling a spark of hope. "Good. We were planning to stop on the next bridge if we can; it'll take a lot of cable, but some of our townsfolk have ideas for casting fishnets with the crane. But meat would be wonderful. Can you help us learn how to do it?"

Uryuu stared at her.

"We survived Aragane," Kurusu stated, low and quiet. "We survived Yashiro. We survived Kongokaku. We will not fail our people now."

Uryuu planted a fist on his hip, and gave them both a wry look. "Are you sure you're bushi? You sound _way_ too practical."

Kurusu glared.

Ayame tried not to giggle. Kurusu had his pride. Even if it _had_ been tempered a bit. "Then you must not have known true bushi, as I was taught we were meant to be. I am the heir of Yomogawa. My first responsibility is to protect my people. How can I do that if they starve? I _will_ protect them, if I must slaughter wild beasts with my own hands."

"You would..." Uryuu shook his head. "Damn. I bet you would." He huffed a breath. "We can't do it now. It's tricky, my men are tired, and the blood _always_ draws the Kabane. When you stop a Hayajiro, hunting is always the last thing you do, and you make damn sure everyone's packed and ready to pull out first. We're going to want to check the bikes, find some good, steady shots from your people to help, and plan out exactly who does what-"

"Lady Ayame!" rang out of the car's speaking tube; Kajika, tense and determined. "Kabane!"

* * *

A/N: Yoshi - adopted son to inherit a clan.

Timeline notes: My best estimate, series covers about 16 days. This would start pre-dawn day 17, bunnies say.

Friends and I did some very rough estimates, and suspect that in general the crew and passengers of a Hayajiro probably aren't much more than a hundred, armed bushi included. From the amount of crowding on the Koutetsujou, we estimate no more than three or four hundred survivors got out of Aragane Station. We have no idea how many survivors from Yashiro Station stayed on the Hayajiro or got off at Shitori Station. Uryuu's Hunters didn't add that many more; for this fic, I'm saying the 8 we see in canon are all. (Yes, I'm inventing their names and some character traits.) The refugees from Kongokaku - your guess is as good as mine. Maybe one or two hundred? Any way you slice it, they're definitely crowding the place.

Kurusu picking up the glasses is purely my headcanon. But given how often Takumi retrieves them for Ikoma... I can't see a good swordsman letting that memento get abandoned. Mental strength is as important as the physical. The reason for Ikoma's odd-lensed glasses - light sensitivity in one eye, caused by explosive head trauma - is also headcanon, based on everything I could find on why someone might have just _one_ tinted lens, a younger Ikoma not wearing glasses, and the fact that present-day Ikoma doesn't seem dependent on glasses for clear vision (and tends to be absent-minded about them indoors) yet _does_ make sure they're on when he's out in sunlight.

Kajika's dream of being a teacher is mentioned at the same time as other big dreams like Yukina getting her own Hayajiro or Ayame reopening the destroyed Aragane Station. Given Kabaneri seems set in a society as stratified as the Tokugawa era, it's possible a steamsmith wouldn't ordinarily get to teach.

A wild beehive might well build under a water-tower. It's got shelter and nearby water.

Chemistry and tech note in general: Kabaneri is pretty explicitly set in a steampunk age. So as far as I'm concerned, any chemical, mineral, or element discovered before 1900 or so is fair game for steamsmiths to know about.


	2. Chapter 2

"That little bouncy idiot-!"

Sukari spared one glance for Mumei as she touched down on the last car, having jumped the gap from the locomotive with an inhuman ease that would have put any Kongokaku folk glancing that way into complete and total panic. Though judging from the screams rising from the other cars, they were already panicking. "At least the Hunters don't care?"

" _Preparing to launch!"_ Yukina's voice rang from speaking tubes and the open hatch, steady and determined. Vibration increased underfoot, the Koutetsujou's engine shifting from standby-idle to full power.

Taking careful aim left-handed, Ikoma fired at one of the approaching Kabane. It staggered, but didn't go down. "Damn it!"

 _Using your off hand always sucks_. "Pull a little right?" Sukari suggested, picking his own shots. At least he thought that might work. It hadn't been that many days since Kibito had grabbed a bunch of nervous steamsmiths and showed them how to _use_ weapons they'd only ever repaired before.

"Ch'." Ikoma fired again. This time, blue sparks flew.

"Admit it." Sukari focused on a shambling mass that must have been well-fed before it'd turned. Fired. Sparks, and the size of that one slowed down some of the mass of Kabane behind it. "You're just out of sorts because you can't jump over there with her."

"Grrr..."

Sukari sympathized; they were both steamsmiths, after all, and who didn't want to take a wrench to a problem rather than shoot it? He knew he'd almost rather be under the undercarriage again than up here making sure one idiot Kabaneri on the injured list didn't forget he was _not supposed to be in close combat_.

 _Kajika is a merciless cutthroat bargainer, who threatened to drag me into the markets to buy food if I lost track of him. Evil_.

Around the arc of the Koutetsujou, other shots were ringing out against the approaching sea of gray bodies. Most hit true, blue sparks flying as the jet bullets blasted Kabane hearts. From the Hunter's car Sukari heard an excited laugh; something about the ammo. Good. The damned Hunters ought to _appreciate_ Koutetsujou ammo.

 _But there are so many Kabane. There's always so many_...

Steel shifted under them, the Hayajiro starting to uncoil from around the water-tower.

 _Good, everyone must be on; everyone who wants to live, anyway_ -

" _Launching!"_

Ikoma braced himself against the railing as they picked up speed, peering down the Koutetsujou's length to where Kibito and Kurusu were organizing the last volley of shots. Frowned, and closed his eyes a moment.

Sukari swallowed, scanning the passing greenery as they hit leaf-blurring speed. "What is it?"

"We're pulling away from them." Ikoma blinked, tension easing out of his shoulders. "I think we're clear."

Atop the end car, Sukari saw a flutter of red. Two last shots cracked; then Mumei bounced atop the car, holstering pistols with a flourish he could glimpse even this far away. "Looks like it." He switched his rifle to his left hand, working out still-new aches and tremors. Glanced at his fingers, after all he knew how fights went by this time...

 _No_.

Braced against the wind, Ikoma hurried over to him. "What's wrong?"

No. It wasn't possible. The whole world was wrong. He was a _steamsmith_.

"Sukari!"

Sukari swallowed hard. "...My hands aren't shaking."

Behind glass, Ikoma's eyes went wide. Then his jaw worked, shoulders shaking in a very suspicious way.

"No," Sukari said bluntly. "Not a chance." He drew a breath of speed-swept air, and glared at a snickering Kabaneri. "There is no way on earth I'm _getting used to this_."

* * *

"I don't need to go back to bed!"

Kajika shoved her stubborn friend back into the bunk anyway. She'd seen Ikoma bend steel with his bare hands. If he really wanted to fight her, he could have batted her off like a feather. "Fight's over! Hozumi knows she should snuggle up for a nap." She looked down at her hands, fisted in Ikoma's coverlet. "And... what we were going to do... you don't need to be standing."

Ikoma sagged back against his bunk, eyes sad. "Kajika..."

"He wouldn't want us to waste anything!" Kajika said fiercely. "And not his tools."

She didn't want to do this either. But if Takumi couldn't be with them, he'd want to help any way he could.

And Takumi hadn't left much.

"Someone should take the kimono," Ikoma said softly, touching black and flame-red fabric. "It's good cloth."

 _I know. I bargained for it_. "You could," Kajika started.

"I'd look like a _ghost_." It wasn't quite a smile. "I mean. More than usual."

Well, yes. Ikoma had never had much color, but since he'd become Kabaneri...

 _Rest helps. Blood helps. Mumei- Hozumi says he'll get better. Believe her_. "Then you keep the tools. I mean it!" Kajika squinted at him before he could protest. "You borrowed each other's all the time. Just... keep them. They'll work better with someone who knows them."

"Okay." Ikoma touched well-used leather, as if searching for a crinkle of blueprints. "We wouldn't have any of the piercing gun notes if he hadn't grabbed them, that night. I was... kind of out of it."

"You'd been _bitten_." Kajika jumped then, and looked around to make sure no strangers had snuck into the locomotive when she wasn't looking. She lowered her voice, just to be sure. "Of course you were dazed. At least you took the gun!"

"Like I was going to let go of that, with Kabane everywhere." Ikoma tapped the heavier bundle, sad and fond. "He never did get a real box for the armor."

Kajika giggled, and swiped at a tear. "Running through Aragane with armor and a broom..."

"The broom was a good idea." Ikoma raised a brow in thought. "If you can just shove the Kabane away - it buys you time." He blinked. "The broom ended up with the cleanup supplies?"

"I think so." Which was where it could be useful, so... that was good. "The armor..."

"Ask Kurusu," Ikoma advised. "If none of our bushi want to use it..." He sighed. "Then ask Uryuu."

"What?" It was all she could do not to scream at him. "But they-!"

"Sahari killed Takumi." Behind glass, Ikoma's gaze was set. "And I killed Sahari. That's over. Right now, they're helping us stay alive. If Koutetsujou bushi can't use it, then we see if the Hunters can."

It hurt. But it made sense. "All right."

"We don't have to like it," Ikoma said, more quietly. "But if it keeps more of us alive - Takumi would want that."

Yes. Yes he would. "All right," Kajika said again, stirring through the last few oddments left behind. Bits of string, a few stray washers; a shred or two of daita-iron wire, probably for more bullet tests. "Poor Takumi. We were stuck in the railyard. He had to leave his whole... collection."

Ikoma blinked. A slight pink touched ghostly cheeks; as if he were trying to blush, there just wasn't enough blood to spare for it.

 _Men_ , Kajika thought gleefully. Oh, she'd never thought she'd be laughing about Takumi's shunga collection. "Honestly, nobody can bend that way!"

"...Really?"

Right. This was _Ikoma,_ who barely noticed pretty unless it came carrying new diagrams. "I think?" Kajika admitted.

Ikoma frowned, as if calculating the best wrench angles for a stuck bolt. "Hozumi would try."

Kajika didn't know whether to laugh or fume. That was just so... Ikoma. "Don't you ever let Hozumi see anything like that!"

"...What, I'm supposed to stop her?"

"Stop me from what?"

Kajika jumped, turning in time to catch the younger Kabaneri's amused giggle. "Ah, nothing important... we don't even have any... oo!" She shook a fist almost in Ikoma's face. "You saw her coming!"

"No." Ikoma frowned, searching Hozumi's face. "I didn't see you. But I felt... it wasn't like the Kabane, I- is that how you knew? At Aragane?"

"Knew?" Kajika looked between them, wondering. "Knew what?"

"I smelled it," the younger girl said confidently. "You didn't smell human anymore. I could tell you hadn't been changed long... but already you smelled like one of us." Reaching in, she poked his chest. "I couldn't _feel_ you until your heart changed. That's how I knew it hadn't been very long. The iron cage was still forming." Her smile was brilliant. "It's good Kurusu didn't shoot you a few minutes sooner!"

 _Ikoma's heart changed_.

Despite the summer heat, Kajika felt frozen. Just as she had that awful last night in Aragane, when everyone had been screaming, she had four lost kids desperate to find their parents, and a Kabane had wedged itself into their car's door, it wouldn't close-!

And Ikoma had _opened_ the door, screaming right back at the monster, blasting through the heart-cage with two thunderous shots.

Then... everything had gone wrong.

It was one thing to hear Mumei say Kabaneri existed between humans and Kabane. It was another to _know_.

" _Ikoma."_ Takumi's voice had been shaking. Horrified. _"Look."_

Kajika hadn't looked then. She'd caught a glimpse of a glow when Kurusu and the samurai charged in to find the Kabane; that was more than enough. Everyone knew what that glow meant. Everyone. Her best friend was already dead. She didn't need to _see_ it.

She wished she hadn't looked later. Watching her best friend stagger through a horde of biting, tearing Kabane, knowing any one of those wounds meant worse than death...

Only it hadn't killed him. The Kabane could tear him apart, but they _couldn't infect him_. Not anymore.

 _Ikoma has an iron cage. Like a Kabane_.

And it was the heart you had to kill, to kill a Kabane; she'd listened to Takumi and Ikoma argue theories, and today Hozumi had finally confirmed it. The heart _was_ the Kabane. The human, once the virus reached the brain... the heart still beat. The lungs still breathed. But the person was gone.

 _Ikoma's not gone. He's right here! He hasn't changed, he's still the same crazy steamsmith_...

A crazy steamsmith who now fought alongside bushi. Who'd charge into a horde of Kabane, because he could, just on the chance he could save someone else from that awful bite. Who'd killed - not just Kabane, but _humans_ \- to save the bright-eyed little fighting girl staring at her now.

Her best friend had a Kabane's heart beating in his chest. And it had _changed_ him.

"Kajika," Ikoma whispered.

She could see her own fear reflected in Ikoma's glasses. _What do I do? What do I say?_ "I-"

"Your attention, everyone!" Ayame's voice over the speaking tubes, excited and joyous. "We've cleared the water-tower with no casualties!"

Kajika's breath caught. She almost didn't dare to believe it. _We didn't lose anyone?_

"I want to thank everyone who made a calm, orderly departure possible-"

Hozumi wasn't the only one who gave the tubes a look askance. "Not Kongokaku."

"-We will be offering rifle instruction to anyone physically capable as we travel. Our current best route is under discussion. We should be able to give you details tomorrow. Well done!"

Ikoma stared at Kajika in the ringing silence, curled in his bunk as if he expected a physical blow.

 _I hurt him. I didn't mean to, it's just - that heart - and Ikoma said he didn't want Takumi to take that bullet_ -

Hozumi straightened, reaching out to touch Ikoma's hand. "Sahari was using a gunpowder gun."

Kajika shook her head, confused. "I know, but-"

"They're not like steam rifles," the Kabaneri girl went on. "We need jet bullets to pierce the heart cage. A gunpowder gun doesn't. Just Hunter bullets. Takumi _moved_ Ikoma. If he'd just gotten between them... they both would have been shot."

"Hozumi!" Ikoma hissed.

"She needs to know. It wasn't your fault. I was there." Tears glimmered in brown eyes, like sudden rain. "And I couldn't save him either..."

 _At least she won't hurt him. Not like I just did_. Kajika grabbed for the tied bundle of armor, trying not to cry. "I'll take this to Kurusu. He can... he can decide if he needs to talk to the Hunters."

Heart hurting, she fled.

Kibito was always easy to spot, standing casually with a few of Elder Dogen's bushi as Ayame and the surviving Elders surrounded the planning table, going over the few maps they had of this section of the rails. "So you see, given the lack of information available in Kongokaku, it's not clear which would be the best route to a living station," Ayame summed up, Kurusu silent support at her side.

Elder Dogen frowned at the sparsest map. "Our choices will be limited by our supplies."

"We have some ideas to supplement those stores," Ayame replied. "But they will require careful coordination, so Hunter Uryuu has asked for some time for his men to rest, first."

"Hunter Uryuu!" One of Dogen's nobles bristled. "You've allowed those murderers on this Hayajiro? They brought the Kabane!"

 _You thought_ we _brought the Kabane_. Kajika felt like bristling right back, remembering torches, and Ayame's brave stand against the guns. _Cowards!_

Kurusu's glance should have cut the man down like a blade. "You didn't mind their aim this afternoon."

"Biba Amatori brought the Kabane, and the Nue," Ayame said sternly. "Hunter Uryuu and his men have dealt with us honorably. While they are on the Koutetsujou, they are under my protection."

Dogen looked up sharply at that, but bit back whatever he'd been about to say. Though Kajika could guess. Probably something about harboring more enemies.

"If they had not provided us a route out of Kongokaku, we might not be here to argue about them," Ayame went on. "Ask your people if they know anything about the routes beyond Kongokaku. We have to consider not only our supplies, but whether we might meet another Hayajiro thrown off of their own schedule."

Kajika shivered. She hadn't even thought of that. There weren't that many Hayajiro traveling between stations, and everyone knew the schedule they were supposed to keep. More or less.

 _Hayatani Station fell, so the Koutetsujou reached us before the Fusojou. If they hadn't_...

She wasn't going to think about it. The Koutetsujou had reached Aragane first, they were on it and moving, and they had enough disasters to deal with already.

"The signals should tell us if another Hayajiro enters our right of way," Elder Dogen declared. "If so, whistle exchanges should-"

"If so, we will retreat to the nearest wye or pull-off at all speed, and let it go by," Ayame declared. "The Fusojou used their whistle, too."

Kajika saw Kongokaku nobles blanch, and felt sorry for them. From what the seamstresses and other women she talked with had overheard, the shogun had lied to them. Told them they weren't in danger from the Kabane clawing at their walls. Told them their great city would _never_ fall.

 _It wasn't the Kabane that killed Kongokaku. It was Biba. How can anyone get that crazy? Bringing the Kabane in your own Hayajiro_ -

Elder Dogen was staring at her.

 _No, anyone but him, I'm not that brave!_

Kibito stepped between them, casual as if the burly bushi were just moving out of the way of departing Elders. "Did you have something for Lady Ayame?"

Throat dry, Kajika shook her head. "It's for the bushi. It's some... salvage..."

Kibito raised a brow at the size and bulk, and nodded once, easily plucking the bundle up one-handed. His free hand patted her shoulder, gently but firmly escorting her past the last of Dogen's bushi toward their lady. "Well, let's have a look together. It's always good for a steamsmith to know what's worth salvaging."

Kajika kept moving, even when she wanted to squint at him and ask what he was _thinking_. Kurusu still fussed a little about propriety, at least when he and Ikoma hadn't glared enough at each other lately, but Kibito _knew_ her...

 _Kongokaku bushi wouldn't know steamsmiths. Not the way we do_.

It was a good thing the kids weren't here, then. They'd be rolling their eyes at adults being too silly to be believed.

Ayame looked at them both, curiosity in violet eyes, as her attendant Miyako cleared the maps away. Kurusu kept his eyes on the departing Kongokaku bushi, even as Kibito placed the armor bundle on the table.

Ayame caught the direction of her bodyguard's gaze, and frowned, waiting until the hatch between cars closed. "Kurusu. My uncle wouldn't."

"He might not. The others?" Kurusu's expression was even more grim than usual. "They were raised bushi. Taught to die so others might live. But they never believed in it. They're _brittle_."

"They might not mean any of us ill, Lady Ayame," Kibito agreed. "But one wrong move, and they'll panic. If they panic near the Kabane - we'll be lucky if they're the only ones who die."

Ayame's shoulders fell, as if she'd expected no less. "You don't trust them."

"We can't," Kajika dared to say. Because Elder Dogen was their lady's uncle, and not trusting him had to hurt. "You have to protect the Koutetsujou, Lady Ayame. We know what mistakes we've made dealing with the Kabane. They don't. Not really." _Oh_. "And... that's why we're safer with the Hunters, isn't it? Even if they hate us, they won't make a _mistake_. Not by accident."

Kurusu nodded once. "They intend to survive."

 _And that's what Takumi wanted. For all of us_. "Then I guess what Ikoma said makes sense," Kajika admitted, reaching out to touch cloth about metal once more. "He said... if you can't use Takumi's armor, then you should see if the Hunters can."

Kurusu frowned. Ayame started. But it was Kibito who looked away from the bundle of armor, searching her face. "Kajika. What's wrong?"

 _Besides everything?_ The tears threatened to rise up and choke her. She wouldn't let them. Ikoma deserved better than that. Takumi deserved better. "I- Hozumi mentioned the iron cage. I didn't think about it before, not _Ikoma_ , he's..."

"So that hit," Kibito muttered. "I guess it had to, sooner or later."

"Kibito?" Ayame moved around the table, reaching out to grasp Kajika's hand.

"Kurusu aims true." Kibito gave his fellow bushi a wry smile. "And you don't miss. You shot Ikoma off the train in Aragane, and he survived it. There's only one way that could happen."

"You knew." Kaijka felt lightheaded, as if something were squeezing her own heart. "You knew all along, and you still..."

"I had reasons not to trust him," Kurusu said bluntly. "He proved them wrong."

"Wait." Ayame was still holding Kajika's hand, eyes wide. "Then that means, when I threatened him-?"

"You would have only broken your knife." Amusement flickered in indigo eyes, chased out the next moment by duty. "But you proved your point, Lady Ayame. He took your blade rather than harm a human. That was the true test."

"But he killed Sahari." Kajika pulled loose from Ayame's grasp, fighting words past the lump in her throat. "He killed a human being. Steamsmiths don't kill! He'll think it's because his heart changed, because of the Kabane..."

 _And what if he's right?_

"We killed several humans to stop the Nue," Kurusu said levelly. "Most Hunters were loyal to Biba to the death, even as Kongokaku turned to hell around them." He glanced at Ayame, then back to her. "Ikoma swore he lives to destroy the Kabane. To prevent another Kongokaku - we had to kill Biba."

"But killing _people_." Kajika shivered again. "Takumi... he held us together, ever since Ikoma got to Aragane. Without him - I don't know how we can stay strong enough to live in another station. I don't know how Ikoma did it the first time! If we'd just lost Aragane, he'd be okay; but Takumi, and being Kabaneri..."

Kibito leaned forward. "The first time?"

Oh. Of course they didn't know. They weren't steamsmiths; and when did bushi ever ask those who repaired the guns about family? "Ikoma came to Aragane five years ago," Kajika said simply. "After his station was swallowed."

"Huh." Kibito straightened, grave. "We weren't losing many stations then. The first few years after the Kabane, so I heard - they were bad. But five years ago..."

"A few years before the losses started picking up again," Kurusu said darkly. "I wonder. How many stations did Biba destroy before Iwato?"

Kajika's eyes widened. _He thinks - but no one could-!_

Yet Biba had. Twice. What if he had killed stations before?

"Did any of Ikoma's family survive?" Ayame asked softly.

"I think they're all gone," Kajika said honestly. "I only know about his little sister, Hatsune. The Kabane caught her." She tried to shut away the images her mind had painted, ever since Takumi had finally gotten the story out of their friend one nightmare-filled night. "So he knows how to use a suicide charge. He knows."

And now the three bushi were looking at each other. Which was _weird_. "What's wrong?" Kajika wondered. "It's a common story, right? We've all lost someone, Ikoma's just - just not strong right now."

"It's not that common. Or it wasn't. If the Kabane can pull something like the Fusojou again..." Kibito shook his head. "Bushi have lost that many kin to the Kabane. Hayajiro folk might. But put that together with the last few weeks, when he's only got a handful of days training to keep moving when even your soul hurts-" He cut himself off, a hint of a smile gracing that rough face. "Lady Ayame? I think I have an idea."

He did? With an effort of pure will, Kajika refrained from jumping up to try and _shake_ it out of him. If only because the way Kurusu went deadly still meant he might be about to do it for her.

Kurusu caught her twitch, and actually looked a shade sympathetic. Then eyed Kibito, cool and focused. "Tell me."

"No, no," Kibito waved him off, smile spreading wider. "This won't work if he sees you knew about it."

Kurusu stiffened, indignant. " _What_ won't work?"

"Nope!" Kibito rubbed his hands together, gleeful. "Kajika, Lady Ayame - we need to talk about this. It _might_ work. Maybe."

Kurusu looked like he wanted to slice something. Kajika couldn't blame him. But if Kibito could help, she'd try anything. "You could go talk to him?" she offered. "Right now, Hozumi's with him, and-"

Kurusu almost sighed. "She's trying to help?"

"I think so?"

"Go," Kibito advised. "Run."

* * *

 _"What?"_

Kurusu closed his ears and hurried toward the bunks, side-stepping a few of his fellow bushi by inches. Kami, no wonder everyone wanted the Kongokaku mob off their Hayajiro. The sooner they were gone, the sooner there would be room to breathe again-

And he was not thinking about whatever mad plan had made their best bargainer yelp like that. It was Kibito's plan, and he trusted Kibito.

 _As Ikoma and Kajika trusted Takumi_. Kurusu hid his grimace, approaching the pair of wary Kabaneri. _If I lost Kibito, I'd be adrift as well_. "I need your assistance."

 _Get him thinking. Get him moving. Make him realize there's something he can do_.

"What is it?" Mumei's stare wasn't distrustful, but it was definitely wary. "Kajika was being silly-"

Kurusu saw Ikoma huddle in on himself, and cut her off. "Kajika is tired and grieving. Even the best of samurai might overreact, after the week we've been through."

Ikoma uncurled a hair, indignant. "Overreact-!"

"You are Kabaneri. Truth cannot be changed." Kurusu sat on the edge of Ikoma's bunk, watching both sets of eyes widen in disbelief. As well they might. Bushi did not make a habit of coming so close to others.

 _We'll be training together. We'll have to be closer than that_. "You are Kabaneri," Kurusu repeated, more calmly. "And Lady Ayame needs your help. Though I doubt she has fully realized it yet."

Maybe. His lady had a keen mind, behind that gentle, deadly smile. He wouldn't be surprised if Ayame had anticipated exactly what he was about to ask of them.

"We cleared the Kabane." Ikoma frowned. "Is something wrong with the Koutetsujou?"

"In a sense." Kurusu kept his voice just above the rattle of tracks, though there should be no one but Aragane bushi and steamsmiths anywhere close enough to overhear. "Counting Lady Ayame and her attendant, we have twenty Aragane bushi on the Koutetsujou." Though technically Ayame was a _noble_ , not just a bushi... he'd have to teach them about that later. In detail. "Twenty are not enough to keep her safe."

Mumei clicked her tongue. "That's why you're training people with rifles." _Duh_ , her rolled eyes added.

"The rifles are to keep the Koutetsujou safe," Kurusu said bluntly. "We need to keep Lady Ayame safe. Or it's over. For all of us."

Ikoma was studying him, intent as he'd been studying the map of Yashiro Station to plot their daring escape. Good. "I don't understand," the steamsmith admitted. "I know everyone follows Lady Ayame. So why isn't she safe?"

"Kongokaku. The Kabane. The next station lord who decides we look like weak refugees instead of an armed noble entourage, and moves to _take_ what he wants," Kurusu growled. "Take your pick."

With other bushi, he wouldn't be so blunt. But these two were _not bushi_.

 _That's saved us. They see things we don't. Find solutions we never have. If I have to shatter propriety to make them understand... so be it_.

"We need to deal with the station lords to survive," Kurusu stated. "If Lady Ayame means to reopen Aragane Station, if all of us are to live long enough to support her - we need a lord to negotiate with the other stations on equal footing. Lady Ayame has the rank and the heritage. The rest of us do not. We must protect her, before anyone else."

Mumei was frowning at him. As he'd expected, from one who'd declared herself the Koutetsujou's bodyguard. But Ikoma-

Ikoma was leaning forward. Listening.

"It isn't fair that I must ask this," Kurusu admitted. "I know you want to protect everyone. But for all of us to have a chance-"

"I believe you."

 _Eh?_

"I know how to repair every part of a Hayajiro," Ikoma went on. "But if Suzuki says we need a night to repair the boiler, or Yukina says the problem is the linkage bar - I'd believe them. I don't know the station lords. You do." He frowned, thinking. "Back in Aragane, when that man panicked - you didn't shoot him."

"There were others shooting," Kurusu observed dryly. "If he'd approached the Yomogawa family-"

"Then you would have had a _reason_ to shoot him," Ikoma stated. "If he'd headed that way, I would have stopped him. With a wrench."

Kurusu drew back a hair, startled. "But you said-"

"That those suspected of being Kabane are quarantined for three days. That's the law. He was _terrified_. But he wasn't attacking anyone. He could have been fine. Or he could have been infected. I just wanted people to _wait_." Ikoma gave him a sober look. "I wanted him to live. I tried to give him a chance. But if he had attacked someone... I'm not crazy." He took a deep breath. "You're crazier than I am. After - what I almost did to Ayame..."

Mumei crossed her arms, and shook her head at both of them. "I _told_ you you were Kabaneri. What did you think you needed? It was _obvious_."

" _You need to drink blood_ is not obvious," Ikoma muttered. "Kurusu. It doesn't mean much, but - I am sorry. I'll never let that happen again."

"No, you will not," Kurusu agreed. Reached out, and tapped Ikoma's chest, just a fraction in from where a drugged Mumei had planted her knife two horrid nights ago. "Because I know the heart that lives here, and the mind that rules it."

That drew a flinch. "Kurusu..."

"The Kabane in this body has never killed," Kurusu stated. "It has never bitten. It has never inflicted the virus on another. It is your heart, as the sword is the heart of the bushi. And just as that sword... it is a manslayer."

Ikoma wasn't quite gaping at him. But he'd never seen the steamsmith's eyes so startled.

"I wish we had the lord's library from Aragane," Kurusu went on. "It would help you, to read the works of bushi from ages past, when all our enemies were human. You would see your own reflection. Every samurai has known that part of him is like even the most depraved of enemies. Every bushi must fear that part, and learn to come to terms with it."

Ikoma's jaw set. "It's not the same."

"No," Kurusu agreed, deadpan. "If bushi spread by biting we'd have to throw all of Kongokaku off before they infected our townsfolk with stupidity."

Mumei collapsed against Ikoma's bunk, gripping the edge and giggling. The steamsmith blinked twice, and nudged his glasses up to stare, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Kurusu kept his face stoic, no matter how much he wanted to smirk. He'd had years of practice.

"You... really don't mind," Ikoma breathed.

"You are dangerous. As am I. Most who have survived on the Koutetsujou this long are dangerous." Kurusu kept his spine straight, as if they discussed nothing more horrifying than the weather. "Kajika came to find us because she knew she was too tired to make amends without hurting you both. So should any injured warrior withdraw from the frontlines, to heal and fight again another day. She cares. Once she has rested, she will tell you it does not matter. You are her friend."

"I don't have many friends." Ikoma looked away. "I never thought the Koutetsujou would abandon me. Even if people were... afraid." He glanced up, jaw set. "But you should think about it. We've been lucky passing inspections. What if we're attacked just before we reach a station, and I'm bitten? We'd have to hide the bite healing. And the blood. And the fact I _don't eat_." No fear in that gaze. Only pure determination. "You want to protect Lady Ayame. Doesn't keeping me on the Koutetsujou put her in more danger?"

Mumei leaned on his bunk, eyes heavy-lidded with exasperation. "You're not worried about _me_ passing inspection."

"You don't get bitten," Ikoma said dryly. "Elder Dogen's seen his niece face down one mob already-"

"Elder Dogen has not fully considered the situation." Kurusu narrowed his eyes; safe, to let some of his cold fury show with these two. "He thinks of Lady Ayame still as an heir in his keeping, not a noble in her own right. He will damage her honor, if we allow it, and that _will_ kill us all."

Ikoma drew himself up in his bunk. "Explain. From the beginning."

That caught Kurusu more flat-footed than if the Koutetsujou had hit a stray boulder. Explain a noble's honor? It was clear as breathing-

 _Not to a steamsmith. Or... whatever Mumei was, before Biba found her_.

"You ask two questions," Kurusu said at last. "The question of honor, and of reality."

That raised Mumei's eyebrows. Good. If the young Kabaneri was determined to break every form of propriety she ought to know what she was breaking.

"It did not matter in Aragane, but Lady Ayame is not only bushi," Kurusu stated. "She is noble. That brings responsibilities. And consequences."

"Consequences?" Mumei crossed her arms, skeptical. "Nobles do what they want. Until the Kabane eat them."

"No, they do not." Although Kurusu knew he would be lying if he said he'd never once wondered about Lord Kensho's actions that horrid night. For their lord's body to have faced them on the tracks, Ayame's father must have been bitten not long after he'd left the manor; and how could half their force of bushi have failed so horribly?

 _We've mourned the dead. We must fight on with the living_.

"You said once that Lady Ayame was not one skilled in war." Kurusu eyed Mumei. "It was true, though we work to remedy that. But she was trained to _lead_. And in a time of war, when every day we face the Kabane to win our survival... we need many voices. We need all your thoughts, so we find tactics none of us might think of alone. But we must have _one_ leader."

Odd, to see Mumei frown while _Ikoma_ nodded. But then, she'd been betrayed by a leader already.

"And that leader," Kurusu said bluntly, "is _not_ Dogen. No matter how much he assumes it is his right."

That had their eyes on him, sharp as honed blades.

 _Kabane strength and a human mind. No; I will_ not _turn such guardians away_.

Ikoma let out a slow breath. "He said he wouldn't try to take the master key."

"He has not," Kurusu agreed. "But there is more than one way to slaughter a lord's honor. Already Lady Ayame has had to overrule him, in what we will do should we encounter another Hayajiro." That irked him; even more because Dogen had so politely told them Lady Ayame was in command only hours before. "It would seem he heard our stories of the Fusojou's assault on Aragane, but did not _listen_."

"The whistles." Ikoma blanched. "You think a Wazatori might have decoded the yielding whistles."

"We would be fools to assume one has _not_." Kurusu nodded once. "Elder Dogen gave Lady Ayame his word, and broke it, in one afternoon. If she is to deal with other station lords as an equal power, we cannot allow this to continue."

Mumei cocked her head. "I could stab him. But I don't think you want me to."

He was _not_ going to answer that honestly. "It would not aid Lady Ayame's position," Kurusu allowed. "I will discuss what might with our other bushi."

Ikoma was frowning at him. "What's wrong?"

Kurusu stiffened. As if anyone had the right-!

 _They do. They need to understand_.

"I... wanted to be surprised at Elder Dogen's attempt," Kurusu stated. "I was not." He straightened, careful not to strike the tail of his hair against the upper bunk. Getting strands caught in spring steel was undignified. And painful. "The Elder knows Lady Ayame is noble. For one station lord to demand another give up two of her people simply so they might be more comfortable, is _unforgiveable_."

That shocked both Kabaneri silent.

"Our people must have faith in Lady Ayame to survive," Kurusu stated. "How could they, if they knew she had thrown you away for nothing more than another lord's fear?" He flicked a hand, dismissing the matter. "Which means nothing against this truth. Elder Dogen is _wrong_. Aragane Station already accepts you, and knows you as our own. That it has not yet been reclaimed does not change what _is_."

Ikoma was looking at him like a blast gone unexpectedly right. Mumei was _studying_ him. "You think more stations will be like Shitori than Kongokaku," she concluded. "They'll want to fight the Kabane. Enough that if they do find out, they might not be idiots."

Ikoma grimaced. "Fighting just needs jet bullets. You have the designs-"

"Designs we would not have without you," Kurusu said bluntly. "Built and used by lives we would not have without you, through all the stations we have dealt with, living and dead. Elder Dogen has seen many years, and we must respect that. He survived war before the Kabane. The panic our families have told us of, once they realized the Kabane were real. And all his years in the shogun's court. He has seen the might of Hi-no-moto sent against the Kabane, and known the despair of its fall." Kurusu paused, deliberate. "But he has not seen - has not _realized_ \- what jet bullets mean for our people. _We can kill the Kabane_. Not merely hold them off. Not hide behind crumbling walls. All we need is time, and resources, and we _will_ take the world back."

"You mean - they think-!" Mumei was sputtering, half a breath from balling up fists and finding someone to punch. "We shot the Kabane! They _saw_ it!"

"They don't realize what the sparks mean," Kurusu informed her. "Those of Kongokaku don't believe our people when they tell them those Kabane are dead. When we tell them we left because it was prudent, because we did not know if the horde outnumbered our bullets - they see only that we _fled_." And that did rouse fury, a gnawing cold rage he'd never had to deal with before. To be doubted as a liar, to his face-!

"Then we'll have to prove it." Ikoma frowned, thinking. "Some way that doesn't get people killed."

"If there is one," Kurusu agreed. "But what they think does not matter. What Elder Dogen thinks affects _Kongokaku_ folk. Not those of Aragane. Never forget. On the Koutetsujou, Aragane lives; and you are ours."

"I... want to believe you." Ikoma took a deep breath, and sighed. "It's hard to shake the gloom. Like the whole world is gray and cold."

"We don't have the medicine." Mumei straightened. "Koutetsujou blood helps, but I wish we had medicine too."

Kurusu tensed. Medicine? For Kabaneri?

From the sudden intent look on Ikoma's face, the steamsmith hadn't heard about this either. "What medicine?"

"The one the doctors made, to help keep us from becoming Kabane," Mumei said plainly. "I wonder how much we really need. Maybe Brother... maybe Biba never got enough."

"Biba?" Kurusu asked, startled. Did she truly mean-?

"Oh. You were there too late." Mumei turned to Ikoma. "But you tore his shirt open. Didn't you see his heart?"

"Near the end, I couldn't see _anything_." Ikoma shuddered. "I felt you inside the Kabane steel. I - I think I followed your scent through the maze. Then everything went black." He stared at her. "Biba was a Kabaneri?"

 _I wish I could go back and kill him again_ , Kurusu thought darkly. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed muted orange; Kibito, striding down the aisle toward them. Good, he could use the backup. _I just dragged Ikoma out of that pit. Biba, why couldn't you have been a human monster?_

How could Biba have been a Kabaneri? Uryuu and the living Hunters swore the man had drunk honeyed tea. And Kabaneri couldn't-

 _Do we know they can't?_ Kurusu realized. _They can drink water, and blood. Tea is mostly water. Has Mumei ever tried?_

"I never knew." Mumei frowned. "His scent never changed. Maybe he was already a Kabaneri when he found me? And when I could feel hearts... he was always with other Kabaneri. Or Kabane."

"Who was a Kabaneri?" Kibito aimed the question at all of them, courteously letting Kajika and Ayame go before him.

Kurusu kept a subtle watch on Kajika. Her eyes were red, but she'd washed her face, and moved in beside him to lean on Ikoma's bunk without a moment's hesitation. "Biba," Kurusu said flatly.

Ayame covered her mouth with a hand, almost stifling a squeak. "We had tea together, how...?"

 _How indeed?_ "Lady Ayame," Kurusu said quietly. "Perhaps it is best this fact... lies unsaid."

"To most, yes." Ayame rallied. "But we should tell Uryuu. If we mean to gain the Hunters' trust, they need truth from us."

"Biba was?" Kibito pursed lips in a silent whistle. "No wonder he'd ride right onto battlefields. Hero, _huh_. He didn't have to worry about a bite."

"So he was already crazy," Kajika said hotly. "One mistake in front of station walls, and everyone would have seen his heart. Did he think they wouldn't shoot, just because he was the shogun's son?"

"Maybe he wanted them to." Mumei plucked at the edge of Ikoma's covers. "I don't understand anything he did anymore. He said he was helping people, but he made Horobi a Nue. He said he wanted people to be free of the walls, but he led Kabane into the stations to kill them." She shook her head, yellow ribbons flying. "That's not free! Free is... is..."

"Free," Ayame said firmly, "is being able to shoot back."

The Kabaneri girl brightened, as if the sun had come out. "Yes!"

Ayame rocked back at the force of her hug, but smiled. "I promise you, Hozumi. We're not going to make anyone be free. We will be free. Everyone else can watch us, and choose."

Kajika's chin lifted at _choose_ , and her hand sought Ikoma's. Kurusu felt a sudden prickle of foreboding.

"Ikoma of Aragane," Ayame said formally. "Do you have any other name?"

The steamsmith's look implied she'd asked if water were wet. "No."

"Do you have any family in other stations?" Ayame persisted.

Ikoma shook his head. "Our parents were alone. Why?"

Good, Kurusu knew, Ikoma was just as wary of this as he was. What was their lady up to?

"That makes this simpler." Ayame folded her hands together, glancing between their Kabaneri. "I forget, sometimes, how daunting an Elder of Kongokaku can be. To me he is my beloved uncle, who always listened to a very young girl, and took her seriously. I can only hope he will believe me now, if we take the time to explain. But until he does believe... forgive me. I must make it clear to him who the lord of the Koutetsujou is. And I must do so in a way that will allow him to withdraw peacefully from this battlefield."

"You have to, Lady Ayame," Kajika put in. "Everyone's going to hear how he meant to deal with other Hayajiros. Our people saw what happened when someone who didn't know the Kabane tried to rule the Koutetsujou. Everyone will be frightened. Someone might get hurt."

"Not _our_ people," Mumei said firmly.

Ayame smiled at her. "Let's hope they don't scare the children." She took a breath. "But I must ask your forgiveness. What Kibito has suggested - I wish we could simply offer it to you both, cleanly, untainted by a war of words between lords. Yet I will offer it, and hope you believe the truth: that it is granted freely, and with full heart." She glanced at Kibito, and inclined her head.

The older bushi grinned, and clapped Kurusu on the shoulder. "So! Which of our clans gets them?"

 _...What?_

* * *

The looks on their faces were _priceless_.

Hozumi's was simple, Kibito thought. Dawning wonder, and a war of doubt and delight that made it clear the Kabaneri girl wanted a clan and home more than anything in the world. They already knew she loved the Koutetsujou. With this, Lady Ayame had made it clear the Koutetsujou loved her right back. That the bushi would fight for her as one of their own, for she would _be_ theirs, surely as if she'd been born bushi. Centuries of tradition gave Lady Ayame that right; and with the Kabane thinning bushi numbers, even Elder Dogen's own nobles couldn't argue against it.

Kurusu and Ikoma both looked as if he'd hit them with a railway timber. Or possibly dangled them in chains off the Koutetsujou itself, running over deep water. The same slow, horrified realization that yes, this was really happening, and no, there wasn't anything they could shoot or stab to get out of it.

 _I wish Dogen hadn't stuck his sword into this_. Kibito kept a smile on his face. _This could be good for both of them_.

Something Kibito would never have suspected that first horrible night, watching the hate on Kurusu's face. A steamsmith had walked through the horde the samurai had meant to sacrifice his life to. A steamsmith, using what had to be his last moments as a human soul, throwing the drawbridge switch so they all might live.

Yet Kurusu had reached past that hate to find respect, offering a suicide charge when Mumei and Takumi dragged Ikoma onto the Koutetsujou despite them all. Offering dignity, in what they thought had to be a man's last seconds of sanity.

 _Took Ikoma a few days to reach back_ , Kibito knew. _Stubborn as steel, that one. But after the Wazatori... well. Hard not to respect the bushi who took on a sword-wielding Kabane with a broken pipe to buy you a few more seconds_.

After that, all Kibito had had to do was watch, help, and poke each of them once in a while with a grin or a wry remark. They'd welded themselves together as a fighting team, eerie and effective as Ikoma's treated blades. His old friend had gained some temper to his samurai steel, bending around obstacles he might have shattered against before. And Ikoma had learned to _fight_ , challenging even the most stubborn minds on the Koutetsujou.

 _Look past fear. Look past what you think you know. Ignore everyone who says survival is impossible. Find a way!_

Kibito could see that stubborn ingenuity flare in brown eyes, as Ikoma slid a subtle glance Kurusu's way.

' _We need to find a way out of this, right damn now. You know crazy bushi. Find me an opening, I'll back you.'_ Kibito let his grin spread a little wider. _Oh, this is going to be fun_.

Kurusu stood, bushi-formal. "I am opposed to this."

Oho, he was going to try _logic_. Kibito relaxed, knowing they'd won half the battle. After all, logic relied on reasons - and reasons could be countered by better reasons. Though he was curious to know what Kurusu thought were good reasons to oppose an adoption. Ikoma was brave, strong, determined-

"We need the flexibility of one who is not bushi."

...That was different.

"We are trained to fight and die for our people," Kurusu went on. "That is honorable, and right. But one trained to die in place may not look for alternatives." The samurai's gaze swept them all. "Jet bullets will change the world. We must change with it."

"Surviving by sacrificing our own isn't living," Ikoma said fiercely. "I invented jet bullets so we could all fight! Sukari and the others are already nervous learning to shoot. Don't frighten them more."

Damn. Those _were_ good reasons, Kibito had to admit. The kind that could only be argued by example, not logic.

 _Time for a temporary retreat_. "Eh, you have a point." Kibito fingered his beard, and glanced at their lady. "Think Ikoma could adopt us?"

"It hasn't been done before, but..." From the sparkle in violet eyes, Ayame agreed on the need for a strategic withdrawal. They'd planted the bait. Now to sit back, and wait. "We should give you more time to consider this."

"Consider-?" Kurusu cut himself off, and gave Ikoma a look of pure exasperation. "Hooking two Hayajiro together could not have gone smoothly. Did they suffer concussions while we were gone?"

"We don't know how rough the last part of the trip was," Ikoma said thoughtfully. "None of them have trouble keeping their balance. We should start with a candle lantern to check pupils. Then reflex tests."

"I can think of reflexes to test," Kurusu growled.

Kibito stifled a snicker, when he wanted to cackle like a man in his cups. Because Ayame _had_ them. Perfect teamwork, the pair of them, strategizing how to bring down shared opponents when any sane man would be hotfooting it out in a mad flight to safer terrain.

Kajika wasn't even trying to hide her giggles. "Don't worry," she advised Hozumi. "You're not a steamsmith. You can do what's right for you without scaring anyone. Even Sukari." She shot Ikoma a _look_. "He's not scared!"

"He is. He just hasn't had time to think about it," Ikoma said seriously. "We pulled out and his hands _weren't shaking_. He noticed."

Kibito frowned. So what was wrong with that? Everybody knew that in your first fight, maybe your first few fights, you were going to shake like a leaf and remember only bits and pieces, if that. That was one of the reasons everyone went through inspections in the first place. It wasn't like a new fighter was going to miss a bite, but a cut or a broken blister gone wrong? They might not catch it in time.

Get past a few fights, though, and a body started to realize it might _not_ die just from facing the Kabane. Vision opened up again, the heart didn't race as fast... and the young warrior's hands stopped shaking. That was normal. Even a bushi child knew that-

 _They're not bushi._

 _Oh_.

Oh kami, they _did_ have a problem. And he'd missed it. Because everyone still alive on the Koutetsujou had thrown themselves into the fight, any way they could; and all the steamsmiths he'd shown how to shoot had learned, and learned damn well. They'd been so good at keeping themselves and their folk alive - and Ikoma had taken so well to fighting the Kabane _hand to hand_ , even if he knew a bite wouldn't infect him that still took the kind of iron nerve most bushi only wished they had-

 _Ikoma_ , Takumi's voice said in memory, _is freakin'_ insane.

Kibito blew out a breath, and traded a serious look with Kurusu. That was something they'd have to think about, training folk with rifles. If normal battle-calm was so alien to townsfolk... well. They'd already seen what happened when the more brittle of their Elders had tried to deal with the fall of Aragane. That had ended with the Koutetsujou near-slain in the mountains, two dead Elders, and half a car of slaughtered innocents.

 _And two Kabaneri on our side_ , Kibito reminded himself. _We saved all we could. And Lady Ayame found her strength. She will command us, and that disaster will never happen again_.

They'd just have to be certain they took measures to ward off other disasters. Such as the panic that might be spawned in those who'd never considered using a steam rifle, when they found out they were _good_ at it.

 _Kurusu's right. We do need how Ikoma thinks. There are so many things we don't know that we_ don't know.

* * *

 _It's going to be more complicated than I thought_ , Ayame thought, heading for the sortie car with Kibito. Most of her bushi would be cleaning rifles and winding down to spar there, and she knew she and Kibito both wanted to catch some honest answers. _I still think it's the best plan. But Kurusu's not just being stubborn; he has reasons. I need to know if all the bushi have those reasons. And if an adoption would worry the other steamsmiths... we'll need to get them used to the idea, as well_.

"But you should think about it," she heard Kajika insist behind them. "We need more fighters. Official fighters, so the station lords treat the Koutetsujou like any Hayajiro. Have you talked to Yukina? We're supposed to have a full complement of bushi. And you need to learn to fight - I _know_ you won't stop, not when you can fight back!" A softer breath. "Besides. Kurusu looks so lonely sometimes."

"What."

Ayame traded a startled glance with Kibito, and muffled a giggle. She couldn't feel too bad; his eyes were dancing, too.

"He really does!" Hozumi said brightly.

" _What."_

"Hozumi," Ikoma sighed. "Someone can be alone without being lonely. Sometimes you just want time to think."

"And test explosives combinations?" Kurusu observed dryly.

"Well, sometimes..."

Kibito waited until they'd closed the hatch between cars. "She's not wrong, I think. Kurusu doesn't like to show it, but..."

"Kuranosuke," Ayame said sadly. It hurt, remembering the young bushi's bright, brave smile. That sword-swift thought, even dying, that had made Kuranosuke roll to the gunpowder so he would take more Kabane with him-

"Most of the Katsuragi clan's warriors went with your father," Kibito agreed. "When we lost Kuranosuke as well... Kurusu knows how much you're still mourning, my lady. And he's never wanted to admit he might need more than a bushi's duty."

Ayame looked up at the tall bushi. "Most of Daisen went with Father, too."

"Ah, but there are still a few of my clan rattling around in here, and healing up in Shitori," Kibito said cheerfully. "Whether this works or not, Lady Ayame, we need Kurusu to take an apprentice. Soon. I'll be damned if we lose the Katsuragi sword-style to the Kabane."

No. Definitely not. Not when they knew it _worked_.

 _Especially with a coated blade_.

Kibito opened the hatch to the sortie car, and Ayame stepped inside with a breath of relief. Oh, there were children playing in a corner, and no few bushi going at steam rifles with oil and cleaning cloths, but there was room to breathe.

So far she'd very politely, but firmly, rebuffed any efforts to spread refugees into this second car. From _any_ group. Sparring and marksmanship both needed room to train. And they didn't have the last car to fire rifles in anymore.

 _If we can get my uncle's people off at the next station, we'd have more room. But then, where will my people find refuge?_

Somewhere else. It would have to be. Because her folk believed in their Kabaneri. They trusted them. Living in the same station as the Kongokaku refugees, who so far thought of even Hayajiro steamsmiths as tainted and untrustworthy... there would be fights. Or worse.

 _How do I keep all of us safe, until we can retake Aragane?_

One day at a time. First, she had bushi to corral. Kurusu was digging in his heels stubborn; determined to look only at her own welfare, and not what those fighting at his side might need for their own hearts to stay strong. Kibito was the eldest of Daisen, but worried first about his friends. If she wanted a sober reflection on if her plan was truly insane, she needed to ask the Iizuna clan. "Keisuke. May we speak?"

Tan cloak laid aside to avoid the grease, the dark-haired bushi was squinting down a barrel to check its alignment. He breathed out, sighting, then nodded. "We heard what you decided on yielding way, my lady. Did you wish to discuss tactics, in case a swallowed train tries to stop and swarm us?"

The very thought gave her chills. If the Koutetsujou was in a pull-off when that happened, they should have room to evade forward or back. But at a wye, if they were unlucky, if the enemy was smart - things could go very badly.

 _We have the guardian cannon. If it can blast a hole in a Fused Colony... I wonder. Could we make jet bullets for the cannon?_

"Tactics would be wise," Ayame allowed. "But first, I need to ask Iizuna's advice on the wisdom of a possible adoption."

That drew every listening ear. As she'd meant it to. The sooner her bushi knew the full story, the sooner she would know if this would work.

Still, propriety demanded that no one eavesdrop _too_ obviously. Keisuke put the rifle down, wiped his hands on a rag, and courteously fell in with Kibito to follow her to a wall behind an unused pell, a good yard from all those curious ears. Met her gaze, focused and intent as he'd been considering the problem of a half-raised tower across the tracks at Yashiro Station. "Ikoma or Mumei?"

She would not jump, Ayame told herself firmly. "How did you-?"

Kibito had the grace to shrug. "Your uncle has reasons to be worried, Lady Ayame. All of your bushi need to know how dangerous stations might be for some of us. If there's another panic."

"Best way to avoid that is to look like any other Hayajiro," Keisuke agreed. "Two people who can fight the Kabane hand to hand, who aren't bushi? It'll draw eyes." He paused. "Now, _three_ young bushi insane enough to clear a Hayajiro's top with no harness - well, everyone knows clan Katsuragi's a touch crazy."

"No one knows that," Ayame protested. She'd heard there were bushi clans with that reputation, yes, but her father hadn't had any under his command. He certainly wouldn't have picked one for her bodyguard.

"They will," Keisuke promised. "We have given it some thought, Lady Ayame. Ikoma and Mumei... they may not be properly trained yet, but what they went through to break an opening for the Koutetsujou, against Biba? They know loyalty." He cleared his throat. "And if Kurusu has two souls willing to follow him right down a horde's throat while we give cover fire, we _want_ them."

So it wasn't crazy. Ayame breathed a sigh of relief. "Mumei... Hozumi is likely to agree. Ikoma - there are three obstacles."

"A stubborn swordsman and a steamsmith," Kibito agreed. "And one I didn't see coming. The _rest_ of the steamsmiths."

"Oh?"

Keisuke looked concerned, not angry, Ayame noted. Thank goodness. She'd hoped those two groups of her people understood each other at least that well. "Ikoma is worried that..." Oh, it was hard to sum up. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to, if her father hadn't instructed her that part of a noble's duty was to _listen_. "The steamsmiths don't know how battle-seasoning changes you. They were taught all their lives that they didn't have the courage to fight. That they weren't born to it. That they would be _afraid_."

"Now they're starting to find out they're not, and it's shaken them," Kibito put in. "We need to teach them that right along with the rifles, Keisuke. They want to protect the Koutetsujou. They can't do that if they're wondering if they're still steamsmiths anymore."

"So we need to be clear you want Ikoma because he's Ikoma, not because he's a steamsmith who fights too well," Keisuke mused. "That will take more time."

"Then we take it," Ayame nodded. "Though... if I could ask you to witness certain paperwork, to be kept in the Koutetsujou's safe?"

"Jumping a little ahead?" Kibito murmured.

"Taking precautions. Against disaster," Ayame said firmly. "Ikoma's been separated from us before. If I need to deal with a station lord to find him, I will have _options_."

Keisuke nodded, accepting her judgment. "Though if you mean to do so, Lady Ayame, there is one more candidate we would ask you to consider." He paused. "Kajika."

Kibito's bushy brows jumped. He looked pleased, though, under the surprise. "Tough little lady, isn't she?"

"Miyako is a skilled attendant, but she is no warden of stores and goods," Keisuke stated. "So far we have survived by every group bringing up what they need, but that allows too many chances for materials to slip through the cracks. The Koutetsujou needs a quartermaster."

"I will discuss that with Yukina and the other steamsmiths tomorrow," Ayame agreed, after a moment's thought. "A Hayajiro needs its own supplies, and I do not yet know who would have the advantage in gaining them. For now, though - the papers?"

Keisuke inclined his head. "We would be honored."

* * *

A/N: I'll spare you a long rant on emotional trauma and anime protagonists. Short version: even compared to everyone else on the Koutetsujou, Ikoma has every right to be curled up in a little ball wanting the world to go away. His friends would be worried - and doing something about that worry helps them, too. The bulwark of compassion is a useful survival tool.

Bushi clans and nobles - headcanon, based on the fact that only the station lords and known nobles like Biba Amatori and Elder Dogen Makino seem to get last names at all. So I dug into Japanese history for a few bits. Meaning in this take on the setting, while Ayame is Ayame Yomogawa, of the noble Yomogawa family, Kurusu would be Kurusu "of the Katsuragi clan." Kuranosuke being related to Kurusu... well, there aren't that many bushi on the Koutetsujou actively using swords. And sword-styles were commonly passed down among relatives. (Clan names were picked from mountains known for tengu, who in legends teach swordsmen.)


	3. Chapter 3

"A quartermaster." Yukina listened to the rhythm of the Koutetsujou as they thundered through the early morning, relaxing a bit as it continued unbroken. Nidai was coming along as the Hayajiro's second engineer, and they weren't going anywhere near full throttle. She could give Lady Ayame her full attention. "So long as we're on this Hayajiro, that might be better held by a steamsmith, with a noble's backing."

Might. She wasn't sure. There was so much she didn't know. Engineering, Yukina could do with her eyes closed. The politics of dealing with stations and passengers? Kami, she could have used years more to learn that.

"That sounds reasonable," Ayame agreed, regarding lists of wanted supplies on the conference table. Kurusu leaned against the wall behind her, the scowl on his face clear evidence that a night's sleep hadn't changed his conviction that they were _all mad_. Or possibly concussed. "Although, once we reach a live station and word of Kongokaku's fall spreads... the situation may change quickly."

"When hasn't it?" Yukina planted a finger on one of the lists to look it over herself. Daita iron was up at the top, along with gunpowder, burst charges, and a few odds and ends she was beginning to recognize as _Ikoma wants to test something_. She almost felt sorry for Kurusu. Almost. "Now what is he up to?"

"I thought we should see if we could improve the guardian cannon?" Ayame glanced up toward the hatch leading to their salvaged gun. "When Hozumi jumped into the Fused Colony... that was too risky. What if no one had caught her?"

"Hmm." Yukina nodded. She hadn't seen that part of the battle, but she could imagine. "Test it pointing out the back of the Koutetsujou."

After all, jet bullets could punch through Kabane hearts. A stronger cannon shot? A Hayajiro's walls would be easy prey.

Which, looking at their lady's careful calm and Kurusu's lighter scowl, might be part of the point. After all, if the Fusojou wasn't the last Hayajiro swallowed by the Kabane...

 _Or if the worst of Elder Dogen's fears come true, and other stations decide - not just to cast us out, but to_ hunt us down.

The Hayajiros were the lifeline between stations, the one safety moving humans across Kabane-haunted lands. Yukina would never have even _considered_ how to harm one, before Biba and his Hunters had smashed into their lives. Damn them all.

Miyako stepped through the curtain. "Lady Ayame. Hunter Uryuu is here."

 _So far he's kept his word_ , Yukina reminded herself, as the young leader stepped into the conference room. _So far_.

And Kurusu didn't tense, as the Hunter approached Ayame. He just... watched.

"Still serious about having us hunt?" Uryuu stated. "Because if the maps are right, there's decent terrain coming up in about an hour."

"I am," Ayame nodded. "But what are you looking for? So we can cover you as well as possible."

"Well..." Uryuu took waterproofed paper out of his vest, and unfolded his own rail map, pointing to tracks and elevation marks. "First off, it's damn close to a pull-off. That means if everything goes to hell and the Koutetsujou _has_ to move, we've still got a chance to ride back to you. Second - hilly, but not too bad. The bikes can take it, even if we get a good load. Third, nobody's hunted it recently, think we can take that as given. Fourth - forest. Not too thick, looks like streams in it, should be a lot of nut trees. And see that house mark? Used to be an unwalled settlement nearby, and that means brush in old fields. Ought to give us a lot of options. Bear, deer; I'm hoping for boar. You don't want to get close, but with rifles we can take down a whole sounder. Four bikes... we should be able to haul back enough for everyone to get a good meal. More, if we're lucky."

"Unwalled settlements." Kurusu looked almost as taken aback by the idea as Yukina felt. "Have you explored such areas before?"

"Yeah," Uryuu drew it out, low and suspicious. "Why?"

"Ikoma would wish to see such a place," the samurai stated. "But if you must ride swiftly - he could not hang on and shoot." He straightened from the map. "Lady Ayame. One of us should go as well. To... see it."

"Could use another good shot," Uryuu allowed. "But what the hell are you looking for?"

"I don't know." Kurusu met Lady Ayame's gaze. "That's why someone should go look."

* * *

 _What am I doing, helping townsfolk storm a place for salvage?_

Uryuu kept watch with Kurusu and Kibito as the small party of steamsmiths and townsmen hit each ramshackle old building in turn, starting with their best guess for which had been the village doctor's shop. Mumei was a bit farther away, but _not_ out of sight, helping Masahide, Eishun, and more bushi stand lookout as a half-dozen Aragane women searched the greenery for feral pot-herbs, mushrooms, and anything else that didn't run away fast enough.

If Uryuu listened _very_ hard, he thought he could hear Ikoma's teeth grinding from all the way back on the Koutetsujou.

 _Tough. Someone needs to keep watch at the Hayajiro, and the wounded list gets that job_.

He still couldn't believe he was actually _here_. With what Lady Ayame had bluntly called a salvage mission. Because everyone on the Koutetsujou needed... kami, they needed _everything_. Not just meat.

 _And I said, we finish everything else before we hunt. Who'd have thought a noble actually listened?_

"Think Elder Dogen can keep his folk calm?" Kibito said, under his breath.

"I'll settle for keeping them away from the knives," Kurusu muttered back. Scanned brush and woods again, before he glanced at Uryuu. "Part of the problem is, not all the Kongokaku folk are _his_. Not the way Aragane is Lady Ayame's. They are those he took charge of at the railyard, and most of them were a mob."

Huh. Fit with what he'd picked up moving through the cars the past day or so. Definitely explained why turning his back on Aragane bushi felt safer... wait. "Why are you telling me this?" Uryuu demanded, keeping his voice just as low. No sense distracting anybody from their search just because a pair of bushi had him confused.

"If the Kongokaku panic to the point we must put the Koutetsujou under way again, Yukina will signal us. All of us," Kurusu said levelly. "You will not be left behind. Even if we must wound fools to be sure."

That was... different. "The princess really likes her honey, huh?"

"Uryuu." Kibito gave him a look askance. "I know it's hard to believe. But we gave our word. As long as you're traveling the same rails with us, we will guard you as our own."

The annoying thing was, Uryuu was starting to believe it.

 _Don't let them shake you_. "Mortars and pestles, okay," Uryuu said grudgingly, walking with the other two farther down the overgrown street as the salvage party moved to the next house. "People run for their lives, they don't take the kitchen stoneware. And the grayhairs you've got can use some soft-ground snacks. But rusty metal, old cloth, books..."

"We can boil the cloth for bandages," Kibito said practically. "And Yashiro Station's gone. The steamsmiths say that means even less ore and metal shipped around. Rusty or not, what we find might be worth something."

"The refugees' worst enemy is boredom." Kurusu scanned behind them again. "Anything to read would be useful." He glanced toward the foraging women, who'd descended upon a green patch brightened with orange splashes of daylily petals, and were currently harvesting all the buds they could get their hands on. "Mumei likes books."

The Kabaneri girl wasn't the only one, Uryuu figured, as the next small party of daring townsmen showed up to lug their finds back to the Koutetsujou. "So... doesn't matter if all of this is any good, does it? You're letting those idiots back on the Hayajiro feel like they're doing something, just messing around with what we bring back."

"They _are_ doing something." Kibito gave him a stern look. "The more eyes we have on our salvage, the more chances there are that someone will think of a way to use it."

Uryuu rolled his eyes. "The Kongokaku are scared to even touch the stuff."

Kibito shrugged. "You can't get past fear all in one day."

Maybe not. Uryuu still didn't trust that bunch as far as he could throw them.

"No bodies. No bones. Everyone here was either turned or fled," Kurusu noted. "You're not worried that we might yet stir up a Kabane in these buildings?"

"Too small a town," Uryuu shrugged, glad to be back to facts he could trust. "Kabane like to sleep in hordes. Maybe, just maybe, one got lost and holed up. But if that happened it'd be hungry. And alone, they're pretty stupid. It'd have pounced the moment it smelled people."

That won him Kurusu's sharp look. "They're more intelligent in groups?"

"Act like it, anyway." Uryuu frowned, putting together stuff he usually only had to explain to Hunters. "Like bees. One on its own, maybe it'll sting, maybe it'll fly off. Stir up a whole hive, and you've got a problem."

"The hive acts together against its enemies. Or its prey." Kibito glanced at a glint of light off something a steamsmith had just shifted inside. "You should tell Ikoma about this."

 _Huh? Why?_ "He's Kabaneri," Uryuu objected.

"For less than three weeks," Kibito told him. "Mumei... isn't always good at explaining."

"She only mentioned last night that there is a medicine Biba's doctors gave Kabaneri," Kurusu agreed. "Do you know anything about it?"

Three weeks? Damn, he wasn't sure he'd ever met a Kabaneri before the doctors had them a month... oof. "I know there was one," Uryuu offered. "Some kind of liquid- what." Because the pair of bushi had traded a glance, and it just smacked of secrets.

"Lady Ayame wants to tell you herself," Kibito started.

"She wants him to know." Kurusu took his eyes off watch long enough to give Uryuu a steady look. "If we shock you, will your men still be able to hunt?"

"We lost our whole Hayajiro," Uryuu growled. "If we can hunt after that, we can take anything. _What_."

Kurusu inclined his head, an honor to a warrior. "Mumei stabbed Biba through the heart. With Kabane steel."

Oof. Okay, so that wasn't easy to hear-

"She had no choice," Kurusu went on. "No normal blade would have worked."

Uryuu steeled himself. "He turned?"

"No."

What? But if he wasn't a Kabane, no human heart could stand up to plain steel-

 _No_.

"I did not look for myself," Kurusu stated. "He was dead, Ikoma injured, the city swarming with Kabane - I had other concerns. But Mumei swears he was Kabaneri."

The world seemed to gray out. Uryuu concentrated on getting breath in and out of his lungs, and hoped to hell there weren't any Kabane inside a mile. Way his hands were shaking right this minute, he'd miss.

 _Biba was Kabaneri_.

Couldn't be true. The man who'd led them, fought for them, kept them alive, been a hero on every battlefield, risking the bite right along with the rest of them...

But Mumei _didn't lie_. Hell, the little mosquito couldn't even shade the truth like a regular girl. And Kurusu _hadn't_ lied to him. Even when it was obvious the samurai hated his guts, he'd never said less than the stark truth.

"...I guess nobody won that bet." Breathe. In and out. Force color back into the world. "Everybody always said the shogun's blood ran pure in him. Or maybe some of the old nobles'; you know, the weird ones who say their ancestors were dragons. Or he was some kind of hero snatched out of the old tales because the world _needed_ him. Faster than any of us, stronger than anyone human..." Uryuu swallowed dryly. "Who else knows?"

"Ikoma and Kajika." Kibito gave him a sympathetic glance. It burned. "We're all having a hard time with this one. Ikoma and Mumei live to destroy the Kabane. Sometimes it's all that keeps them going. Knowing another Kabaneri-"

 _Killed two stations_. Uryuu tensed.

"-Almost killed the Koutetsujou, when they've fought so hard to keep us alive?" Kibito went on. "That's hurt them."

Uryuu scowled, turning over everything the two bushi had said to try to find what they hadn't. The Kabaneri cared more about the Koutetsujou than stations? Made sense. After all, that was why the Hunters had always traveled on their own Hayajiro. Stations were risky, risky places for Kabaneri. And not much safer for Hunters. Much better for anyone the uptight townsfolk thought was _tainted_ to just keep traveling-

Then the one name they hadn't mentioned smacked him over the head with an oni's club. "The Princess' uncle."

"He already knew Biba was an enemy." Kurusu gave a quick glance to the steamsmiths hurrying out of the latest falling-down house; one lugging a stack of seasoned black woks, the rest bundles of weathered firewood. "More details might only be a distraction."

Details. Uryuu glared at both of them. That was one hell of a big _detail_ for Lady Ayame to keep away from her uncle. "Why?"

Kibito shifted his shoulders, as if that armor had possibly gotten a hair out of place. "Elder Dogen isn't rational about Kabaneri."

"Who is?" Uryuu shot back. That was why you didn't talk to station-folk about important things. They didn't see a sometimes-scary ally. Just a monster that ought to be shot or burned before...

 _Oh_.

Oh hell. It all made sense. "You need our numbers," Uryuu breathed. "The Kongokaku - they've got at least ten fighting-age bushi with 'em. Maybe more. If they find out you've got two Kabaneri on board..."

Panic. Chaos. Swords and rifles turned against each other. Kurusu's bushi outnumbered Dogen's, but not by _enough_. If luck broke the wrong way, they'd lose.

"We'll end up killing each other," Kibito said grimly. " _If_ we don't make it clear they've lost before they ever draw a blade."

The Hunter considered that, cold and calm as facing a dozen hordes. This... _this_ he could understand. And damn, but Lady Ayame was a tougher bushi than he'd ever dreamed. She might hate what they'd done, but she'd looked at the _numbers_. Add eight Hunters to her side, and Kurusu's edge went from maybe two to one to almost three. Still lousy odds in a Hayajiro, but a hell of a lot better to hammer a point through rock-hard station heads. "You need us."

"We do," Kibito said plainly. "Lady Ayame hoped her uncle would see what we see. Allies. Help. People who can walk _right through the Kabane_ , that's saved our lives so many times-!"

"All he sees is that their hearts are Kabane." Kurusu's gaze cut at the Hunter. "Ikoma has offered to leave the Koutetsujou, rather than put its people in danger. That offer is _refused_."

Ikoma, but not Mumei? Heh. Uryuu didn't know the little Kabaneri that well, but he wasn't surprised. If Mumei had decided she liked these people, it'd be Dogen who got thrown off first.

And maybe not just by Mumei. He'd seen that same kind of crazy bushi bristle from Masahide. Not often, Masahide was a good Hunter, but sometimes some idiot stomped on his honor hard, and then said idiot's skull was going to get broken. What the hell had Dogen done to get that snarl from his own niece's bushi?

 _Maybe just tell them the truth_. "They could turn," Uryuu said flatly. "No medicine, fighting too long without blood... it could happen."

"Have you seen it?"

Okay, even for a samurai Kurusu must have ice water in his veins, because that voice was cool and calm as a Hunter picking off a horde front-runner at the edge of rifle range. "Seen it?" Uryuu said in disbelief. "Did you miss Iwatori? Horobi busted the place up like _matchsticks_."

"On the Black Blood," Kurusu nodded. "Have you seen a Kabaneri turn without it?"

Right. Kurusu was flat-out insane. Of _course_ he'd...

Uryuu watched the next party of Aragane townsfolk grab the firewood, and thought hard. Mumei had always had Hunters' backs on the battlefield. She deserved better than getting put down like a rabid dog. Not to mention Dogen was a damn Kongokaku noble, and if there were _any_ way to jam his gears, Uryuu wanted a shot.

 _And after the Kokujou... if anybody kills Ikoma, it's going to be us_.

"I've seen Kabaneri get hungry and get shot," Uryuu said at last. "Sahari said they were going to turn. The doctors said sometimes the operation's unstable. But Horobi... she's the first one I _saw_ turn. So I don't know." He scanned the brushy treeline to the west; if any Kabane did show up, they'd come from shadows if they could. "No noble's going to take _I don't know_ when he's trying to keep his people from getting bit."

"Nor will Lady Ayame." Kurusu was still calm. "Because I know."

That got Kibito's brows bouncing up. He glanced at Uryuu.

The Hunter shrugged back, just as confused. _Hey, I didn't hit him when you weren't looking. This crazy's all yours_.

"You know," Kibito said thoughtfully. "How?"

"Even in the depths of the Black Blood, Ikoma never forgot what he was." Kurusu stood straight and proud. "Biba's scientist declared he would become only a Kabane, burning through his life force. He was wrong."

"And you know why?" Yep, definitely cracked, Uryuu decided. "Even the scientists didn't know how that stuff worked."

The cool upward slant of Kurusu's brows said he wasn't relying on anything as flimsy as _science_. "Have you ever dealt with an eagle?"

"Not a crazy bushi," Uryuu said flatly. "No."

"They are predators, and not inclined toward dealing reasonably with humans," Kurusu stated. "More than strong enough to kill a man. But take a chick in down from the nest, feed it, raise it... and it will hunt for you."

Uryuu tried not to gape. "Is he-?"

"I think he is." Kibito almost whistled. "Kurusu. A _Kabane_."

"I know what the iron cage means," Kurusu nodded. "As I know Ikoma's has been _fed_. Cared for. Protected - for if Kabane are aware enough to be enraged, it knows all other Kabane are its enemy. With us, it can live."

Er. That was... Uryuu'd never thought... the damn samurai _couldn't_ be serious. You couldn't deal with Kabane, except by shooting them, or giving them the prey they wanted...

 _Kabaneri don't have to kill for their blood_.

"I don't buy it," Uryuu said, flat out. If Lady Ayame needed the Hunters she was going to _get_ the Hunters. Bad attitude and all. "A Kabane's a Kabane. Kabaneri are safe, as long as they aren't Kabane." He paused, deliberately, just to see if Kurusu would go all bushi-snarly on him for insulting an ally.

The samurai waited, unimpressed.

"But the brat says blood here is better for 'em," Uryuu said reluctantly. "Don't know how. Don't know _why_. Same stuff they got when we had you. But if she says it is... then keep them fed. We'll see. But we don't have medicine-"

"Yet," Kurusu stated. "We know there is a medicine. All we have to do is determine what it is."

"All," Kibito muttered. Shook out his shoulders. "I think we should wrap this up. Some of us have been out in the sun too long."

Kurusu cast him a look askance.

"We have," Kibito said plainly. "Think it through. Eagles are picky who they trust. If you're right... knock out Ikoma, and the Koutetsujou might still be safe. But Kongokaku tried to burn us alive."

* * *

Flipping through one of the musty agricultural tomes the salvage party had brought back, Elder Dogen Makino listened to the unfamiliar roar of Hunter bikes taking off, and did his best to cloak thoughts of slaughter and betrayal. Hunter Uryuu might be brutal and vicious, but so far Ayame swore he'd kept his word. Even if he were tempted to do something else vile, half his men were still here, within easy reach of their vengeance. And the Hunters would be fools to damage the Koutetsujou; the only safe transport away from the Kabane.

Though at the moment, Dogen was seriously reconsidering his niece's definition of _safe_.

 _It apparently includes half-Kabane, station-murdering Hunters, and stopping a Hayajiro outside a station just to pick up salvage!_

Granted, the salvage itself was most likely perfectly safe. The idea of handling, much less using items left outside pure walls to the mercies of the Kabane... that was almost enough to send some of his more fragile townsfolk screaming down the cars. And panic was a virus that spread fast as the Kabane. If one man broke, more would.

 _We can't let that happen_.

And so here he stood, in plain view of anyone who ventured near the sortie car, calmly browsing a tract on the proper transplantation of berry brambles while Aragane townsfolk ruthlessly sorted through every last odd bit Ayame's insane salvagers had brought back. Projecting studied calm, so that none of their bushi would need to even threaten to use rifles.

Yet the rifles were there. Which made him have to think yet again about his surprising niece, and just how sharp a blade hid under that sweet smile.

 _Let it be fine as a razor. For all our people's sake_.

Kongokaku had fallen. The shogun's own capital had toppled, brought down by the Kabane and human treachery and he knew... he _knew_ that had shaken him. But it had not shaken Ayame. And that, above all, was why Dogen had not tried to take command of the Koutetsujou. Young or not, Ayame had proven she could lead this Hayajiro, that her people would follow her no matter how great the danger, and if the few survivors of Kongokaku were to see the next sunrise they needed that steady command.

 _The next sunrise. And the next after that. And then what?_ Dogen drew on iron will, keeping the despair from his face. _Our world is dying. If the Kabane can swallow the capital, can the rest of the stations be far behind?_

Yet Ayame's people seemed immune to that cold reality. As if they could see beyond the next fork in the tracks, the next horde of unstoppable Kabane. As if all they knew had not turned to ashes and blood.

 _As if this... this is actually a good day_.

Bravery, or willful blindness? Or something else he did not yet know of? After all, if Ayame's folk had hidden the Kabaneri... what other surprises did they have in store?

 _Remain calm. Be on your guard. And find out, in case the youngsters are all in over their heads_.

For now, though, he should concentrate on crafting the words to persuade his people to eat if the Hunters did come back with prey. The Kabane virus wasn't carried in animals. Fortunately.

Though in his experience, the scent of stewed meat ought to do half his work for him.

 _If the Hunters can be trusted. We'll see_.

* * *

Suzuki climbed out of the locomotive's top hatch, taking a deep breath of fresh summer air. Crushed greenery, a little dust, and he could still almost taste a hint of bike exhaust. Fuel for those would have to go on the list. The clean sound of the engines meant they were efficient little bikes, probably just sipped kerosene where others would gulp. But he thought he had a good grasp of what supplies were on the Koutetsujou by now, and while they'd restocked fuel for cooking they'd never expected to have this many people to cook for. The salvage party had found a few stored bottles in a medicine-seller's shack, but Suzuki wasn't letting that near the Hunters until steamsmiths had had a chance to filter it first. It'd be a hell of a lot easier to steal fuel from the kitchen supplies than get new engine parts.

 _There he is_.

Sling, rifle, and the cranky look of a steamsmith who _really_ wanted to say screw it, and bring out a bigger hammer.

 _Young_ , Suzuki thought, heading over to where Ikoma was scanning the treeline. _Takes time to figure out when you need to relax, and just wait_. "Ikoma-kun."

"Suzuki-san." The younger steamsmith relaxed a little. "No Kabane yet."

Yet. That was always the worry, these past twenty years. It was hard to remember a time when there _hadn't_ been Kabane lurking on every horizon. When the worst someone walking these woods had to worry about was a wolf pack or a highwayman, both of which even an apprentice steamsmith could send packing with a good pistol shot. When the _Dunedin_ , docked in Hi-no-moto's grandest port, thought it was safe to let a youngster go see the sights a rail-ride away; temples, silk dying the rivers indigo and scarlet, the kilns firing delicate porcelains that would be sold across the oceans. He'd been a very proud young apprentice, determined to live up to the captain's faith in his ability to poke around for new engineering tweaks the locals might not have even realized were profitable improvements. So there were rumors of some odd monsters to the north; when weren't there? Hi-no-moto had whole books of odd creatures that didn't really exist. You could buy one in the market for a moderate sum, illustrated with iron-clubbed oni, flaming beasts, and bird-maidens descending from the heavens. Ghost tales. Fables.

Oh yes. He'd been very proud. And then very scared. And alone.

Suzuki would be the first to admit he didn't remember much about that first horde. Teeth, glowing veins; scrambling into the boiler room of an escaping Hayajiro and _refusing to come out_. No matter how gentle the hands were that tried. All around him were strangers, the little he had of the local language kept sailing out of his grasp in panic, and when he tried to ask after the _Dunedin_ 's fate...

 _The port burned. It was swallowed. By the Kabane_.

The weeks after that were memories he didn't look at too hard. Words didn't work, and sometimes he'd found himself crying without knowing why. But steam... steam didn't care what nation you were from. He fixed gears. He cleaned tools. He helped keep the train running; first one step ahead of the Kabane, then between stations as refugees retreated behind walls and grimly set about finding out how to survive.

The _Koutetsujou_ , an older steamsmith finally managed to get through his word-lost ears a month or so later. _The Iron Fortress. Your home now, Suzuki-kun_.

Home. He'd visited stations in the years since, sometimes even spent a night or two amongst regular folk on festival days. But home was steel walls and rumbling tracks, the vibration he braced against without thinking as he walked. Not the same as shipboard roll, but then ships didn't run the risk of derailing.

It'd been interesting, seeing the youngsters get their Hayajiro legs. Almost as interesting as realizing it was... nice, being able to talk to townsfolk outside of a station. Easier. He wasn't an outsider, here.

Still. It was damn crowded. Sukari thought he was crazy for hanging off the side of the Hayajiro to check the coolant tank? Ha! Wait until the youngsters had been cooped up with too many people a few more days. He'd have to pluck them off the sides himself.

And speaking of coolant... Suzuki took two bamboo water-tubes out of his toolbag, and offered one. "Hard to come up with a treat for you two."

" _Tritu?"_

Ah. Argh. Twenty years and sometimes he still didn't find the right word. "Perishable gift... just try it."

Curious, Ikoma took a sip. And almost sputtered. "It's cold!"

Taking his own icy slug, Suzuki gave him a thumbs-up.

Ikoma matched him, delight spreading across a pale face. "But - when did - _how_ did-?"

"I used to be around ice machines," Suzuki shrugged, pleased that chilling plain water was enough to make it a treat. His steamsmiths could be bribed with mead, but it was hard to think of a delicacy for someone stuck on a diet of blood and water. "Tinkered with my own a long time. It's summer. If we get meat it'd be good to cool it. And to cool down tempers."

Ikoma took another sip of ice water, rubbing the cool outside of the tube against his forehead. "Hozumi-chan will love this."

She obviously wasn't the only one. This could work. "Are you staying? On the Koutetsujou," Suzuki clarified, at the Kabaneri's blink. "Stations... can be very dangerous for outsiders. If they know you will leave with the Hayajiro in a day or so, they ignore you."

Ikoma drew in a breath, sun glinting off clear and green glass. "I'm going to help Ayame-sama refound Aragane."

Well, yes. With jet bullets and enough time - yes, they might be able to do that. It'd be a hard fight, but worth it. Still, in the meantime... "Aragane Station will take time. And more rifles," Suzuki said practically. Pointed down, through layers of steel. " _Aragane_ is here."

There. Let the young steamsmith think about it. They'd seen too many stations fall these past weeks. If another fell while Ikoma was in it... he'd probably survive. But odds were, anyone he saved would see his heart. And then - well, even Hozumi could only fight a mob so long.

 _Lost enough good inventors already. I'm tired of it_.

Besides. Ikoma had to stay long enough for them to figure out how to make jet cannon bullets. Or something else that could take down a Black Smoke. Because if more Kabane figured out that trick, they wouldn't _need_ to take over a Hayajiro. Just climb right over the walls like the giant skeleton-woman in that youkai book he'd bought, so many years ago. Brr. Honestly, why would anyone who'd traveled a Hayajiro still want to go to ground in a station? At least the Koutetsujou could _run_.

 _What choice do they have?_ Suzuki reflected. _Steamsmiths and bushi have jobs, but what are townsfolk going to do on a Hayajiro_...

Except Aragane's townsfolk had just _found_ something to do. Salvage. Sorting. Figuring out how what they had and what they'd found could be turned into food, shelter, trade goods. It wasn't enough to survive on, maybe just enough to stretch their supplies a few days more, but-

 _But that's days we didn't have. What if we could do more?_

He needed to talk to Yukina about this. She'd know how to approach their captain. He had a hard enough problem with station folk. Nobles were - well, even with twenty years in Hi-no-moto, he wasn't sure he understood nobles.

 _If Ayame-sama hadn't convinced Minister Yamazaki jet bullets work... forget care for our wounded. We might not have even gotten supplies for the Koutetsujou_.

Which was a damned shortsighted idiot noble custom straight from the shogun; you didn't let doubtful folk in to undermine loyal stations. After all, you never knew who might be tainted by the Kabane. Inspected or not.

 _That'll kill the stations sure as the Kabane if we don't loosen it up_ , Suzuki thought. _The only reason stations have lasted this long is that we bring what they need and don't have. Food to mining stations like Yashiro. Metal to city-stations like Shitori. Trade needs to keep moving._ People _need to keep moving_.

It was a damn shame about Kongokaku, and a worse one that the Koutetsujou's folk had gotten dragged in. But the shogun? Suzuki wasn't going to cry any tears over Biba murdering that crazy bastard.

Ikoma was frowning at him. "Is something wrong, Suzuki-san?"

Huh. Usually the lenses kept people from noticing too much. "Worried about the stations," Suzuki admitted. "Fusojou, the Kokujou - two Hayajiro gone. Kongokaku's gone, and every Hayajiro had them on the schedule. If we don't spread word fast, we don't know how many Hayajiro will be lost."

"Have you tried the... _raadio sigunar?_ "

And the fact that a smart if self-educated steamsmith barely knew what radio _was_ made Suzuki want to bend something over the shogun's dead skull all over again. Whistle signals, hell; if they could just set up a telegraph between all the stations the Fusojou's assault on Aragane... well, it still might have happened. But they would have had warning. "At least three times a day, and midnight," Suzuki nodded. "It's only good for a few miles. Don't know if any other Hayajiro has it. Maybe other stations close to Kongokaku do..." He frowned, as Ikoma turned his head, as if trying to catch a faint sound. "Kabane?"

"The bikes."

Huh. Younger ears - wait, now he heard them too. Faint, but closing. Fast. And that particular pitch- "They're pushing the engines."

Ikoma glanced at him, eyes wide. Jumped to his feet, and dashed to the open hatch. "Yukina-kun! Prepare to launch!"

"Kabane?" the engineer called up.

"Not yet! But Suzuki-san says the Hunters are coming _fast!_ "

* * *

Uryuu leaned over his handlebars, getting out an extra smidge of speed as he tried to read the terrain for the best spot to take a shot. If anyone could take a shot. The way Mumei and one too-smart Kabane were scrabbling over each other, the tied-on swine, and the back of poor Eishun's bike, it was even odds who'd catch the bullet.

 _I am going to beat that bouncy brat into the car floor, I swear-!_

Tomio wove around a tree, fell back two yards, and fired. The Kabane screeched, missing a chunk of its forehead, then dove back in as Mumei dodged and sliced.

Brush parted, and the sortie car was in sight: door open, steam already rising from the locomotive, a swarm of rifles pointed their way.

" _Fire!"_

 _How about that_ , Uryuu thought in a frozen blink. _They missed us_.

The horde racing in their wake wasn't so lucky. A swarm of the front-runners fell, blue sparks flying from at least half a dozen bodies.

From the corner of his eye, Uryuu saw their hitchhiker flinch.

That was all Mumei needed. Her gun came up, coated bayonet flashing. _"Rokkon Shojo!"_

The head bounced away. The body wasn't so easy. Eishun drove an elbow backward, Mumei pulled-

 _Oh you_ stupid _idiot Kabaneri that thing outweighs you twice over-!_

-Fell off with it, rolled, and bounced, red cloak fluttering as she leapt up and into Ikoma's arms.

 _...I take it back, get the one-handed idiot out of the fight, thank you little mosquito_.

Kibito grinned at him, all bared teeth, as he commanded the small squad of bushi giving them cover. _"Fire!"_

Uryuu ducked by reflex, even though he was pretty sure now they weren't aiming at the Hunters. Pretty sure. Mostly. _Only five of 'em here, why-?_

Other shots, echoing from farther down the side of the Koutetsujou.

 _What are they doing? They know better than to try and shoot Kabane that far away!_

They did know better. Which meant-

" _Keep them distracted!"_

Kurusu's voice, from the roof of the last car. Oh. Damn.

 _There's another horde. At_ least _one more._

 _...Screw it. No time to pull in neat and proper_.

Popping a wheelie on a bike was not advised. Dangerous. Even when you weren't hauling near two hundred pounds of half-grown pigs.

Uryuu hauled back and leapt the ramp, grinning like the maniac he was.

The screech of wheels on steel was the most beautiful sound he'd heard all day.

 _Turn, brake, foot up-!_

The wall still knocked the breath from him. But it could have been worse. Much, much worse.

More gunfire. More snarling engines, as Tomio, Nariaki, and Eishun followed his lead, everything was going to be fine-

A rope snapped, and way too much dead pork flew sideways.

Uryuu ducked muscle and bone, skipped sideways from the crash of bike against who-knew-what, and got clear in time to put two more shots into the front of the horde as Kibito and Ikoma hauled the ramp up. "We're in! Somebody tell that damn engineer-"

...The damn whistle was _not enough warning_. And he was going to tell the crazy little redhead that. Later.

Right now he was just going to crouch here on the floor as the Koutetsujou bolted like a bat out of hell. And hope the bushi on top had had harnesses.

That, and take another look over the Kabaneri steamsmith as Kibito's bushi slammed and locked the side hatch. Because Ikoma was standing there, oddly still, _listening_.

Or it looked like listening. If you didn't know Kabaneri.

"Check Eishun," Uryuu said roughly.

Eishun was patting himself down, stunned but relieved. "Boss, I'm okay-"

"You get checked!" Uryuu roared. "No damn shortcuts! Not when there's no one who can-" He cut himself off. Wouldn't do any good.

"No one who can what?" Ikoma pounced.

Right. Because _of course_ the stray Kabaneri couldn't leave well enough alone. Uryuu _tch_ ed.

"Mumei, go help Kurusu and check the other cars," Kibito stated. "Eishun... don't worry, we've done this a lot."

Damn. Kibito must have caught his eyes flicking toward Mumei. Well, at least she was going.

Eishun met his gaze, and started stripping down. Uryuu held his temper and his ground; if he had to lose one more Hunter because of idiot station-folk, he'd-

Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. But it'd be vicious.

Only the Koutetsujou bushi weren't sweating, and they didn't stare. Not the way all his Hunters had seen trigger-happy station guards stare, all sweaty hands and nervous tremors so they were probably more dangerous from stray bullets than aim. Oh, Kibito's men looked, as Eishun bared every inch so Uryuu could check he hadn't picked up a bite or a scratch in the middle of all that battle-haze. But there was a difference between a professional look and _staring_.

"You're good," Uryuu affirmed, turning his back so Eishun could get dressed again. So their gearhead wouldn't see how much it cost his boss to stay cool and professional. Like a Hunter.

From the way Ikoma frowned, he caught it. Damn Kabaneri. They might not see things farther away than humans, but they picked up _motion_ keen as a falcon spotting a quivering rabbit. Including little twitches on a human face.

...And for a moment Uryuu hated them all, because if Biba had been Kabaneri, then-!

Then maybe it wasn't just a noble leader reading his men's hearts to find the right words. Maybe Biba had used that motion-sight to sway them all. Just another weapon. Like Horobi.

 _Idiot_ , Uryuu cursed himself. _Look at Mumei. Mosquito's been Kabaneri two years and she still doesn't know how to handle people. Biba was a guy who knew how to lead. A lot of what he did - it was real_.

It was the bits that weren't that gnawed at him. How the hell was he supposed to sort out what'd been the leader of the Hunters, and what'd been the pure crazy that wanted to see the stations go down in flames?

 _Don't know. Don't care. We're not doing that again. Ever. We'll find some way to live, no matter what the idiot station-folk think. Even if_ \- Uryuu hid a wince. _Even if I have to ask the damn Princess for help_.

He didn't hold out high hopes for that. Ayame held a grudge. A damn _justifiable_ grudge; he thought he could still feel his cheek sting from where that boy's mother had slapped him. She hated what they'd done.

 _But they need us. At least until they get the Kongokaku off this train_.

Which was going to be sticky enough. Finding one station willing to take in unrelated refugees was going to take a miracle, not matter how noble Dogen Makino's blood. Where the hell were they going to find two?

 _If we get the Kongokaku off - where do the Koutetsujou go after that?_

Uryuu clenched a fist and moved toward the carcasses, trying not to smile too viciously. This. _This_ was what he could bring to the Princess when he asked for help.

 _We need help to live. You need_ where _to live. I've got an idea_...

Well. He didn't have one yet. He'd work on it. For now... time to get butchering.

* * *

Ikoma retreated to the bikes, more than willing to let a balding Aragane butcher and his half-dozen eager helpers take over the bloody details. Fumbled in his toolbag left-handed, taking out a screwdriver that looked the right size. This he could handle. A skinning knife? Not a chance. His nerves still weren't settled from catching Hozumi, what had she even been _thinking_...

And even if those were Koutetsujou folk at work, it'd be better if he didn't make it obvious there was no hand in his sling.

 _Besides. This is something I have to do_.

Lady Ayame might think the Hunters could be trusted, but she hadn't been _there_. She hadn't seen Sahari shoot Takumi down. She hadn't seen the blank _nothing_ in Mumei's stare, as the girl he trusted stabbed him... _almost_ through the heart.

Uryuu had been there. Uryuu had seen it all.

 _He's going to want to take Hozumi hunting again, I know it. I couldn't argue this time, we need the food - but I have to know if she'll be_ safe.

The toolbag was his wedge, to pry his way into Hunter business. And he was going to use it.

Eishun glared at Ikoma as he came nearer. The other Hunters didn't look much more friendly. "What do you _want?_ "

"Suzuki said you had to push the engines." Ikoma held up his screwdriver like a peace offering. "I haven't worked on bikes before, but I know combustion chambers."

The scarfed Hunter blinked, seeming to finally take in toolbag, pants, and the black undershirt. " _You're_ a steamsmith?"

"For years," Ikoma said practically. "Shooting Kabane - that's new."

"Might as well see if he can help," Uryuu called over from where he was discussing proper skinning and offal with the butchers. "These guys say he's the best steamsmith Aragane had. And I want to _talk_ to him."

Eishun looked... slightly less ready to maim him. Maybe. "The best, huh?"

Ikoma shrugged. "Suzuki knows more than I do about engines. And reverse-engineering. If you want to wait until he's free..."

Duty wrestled with distrust on Eishun's face. Duty won; the stocky Hunter nodded toward the most dented bike. "Come on. At least you're an extra hand."

 _Fixing things again_. Ikoma ignored the grumps and growls, concentrating on learning the details of an engine he'd never seen before. Pistons, cylinders, the little quirks of which screws needed to come out first and get tucked in a pocket before they dropped into someplace awkward... the bikes were lovely pieces of work. _I wish I could do this all the time_.

He hated the Kabane. He meant to destroy every last one of them. He wouldn't stop fighting until they were all safe. But it was good to _fix_ something.

Wiping his hands clean, Uryuu sauntered over, deliberately casual. "Well?"

"He knows what he's doing," Eishun muttered. Biting his lip, he gave the newly-tuned engine one last look-over. Sighed. Shrugged, as if he really wished he'd found _something_ off, and started closing everything back up.

Uryuu nodded, and gave Ikoma a look askance. "Some of us hold a grudge."

"The Kokujou?" Ikoma watched Hunters twitch, and squared his shoulders. "I'm _not_ apologizing. We came for Mumei. And the Koutetsujou."

 _And if I had to smash a dozen Hayajiro to save us, I'd do it_.

Though he honestly hoped he never saw the Black Blood again. That'd been too close. Dying was one thing. Dying without saving Hozumi, Kajika, and everyone else? Unacceptable.

"Wouldn't ask you to," Uryuu said dryly. "Sahari was an idiot. You were stronger."

"I was desperate," Ikoma corrected him. "Everyone I have left in the world is on this Hayajiro. I don't know what you've lost to the Kabane..."

 _But at least you're still human_.

No. He was _not_ going to let that creeping despair drag him down. That wasn't him; that was whatever was wrong with his emotions from being a Kabaneri. Blood would keep it at bay, at least a little longer. Maybe long enough to sit Hozumi down and ask her everything she remembered about the medicine so they could try to recreate it.

 _I pulled off the hanging rig the first time. We have a chance. We can do this_.

The despair wasn't him, and they were alive. Everything else was details. And speaking of... "Why does animal blood attract the Kabane? It's not what they want. Is it?"

"Nope." Uryuu gave him a curious look, and all the Hunters seemed to relax a little. "It's the smell. Blood smells like blood. They have to get pretty close before they can tell it's not human. Mumei didn't tell you?"

Ikoma snorted, and started putting his tools away. "Mumei's explanations could use some work."

"Sounds like." Uryuu's eyes slid toward the crew breaking up bones and meat. "Guess we'll have to go over them. Later."

"No, it's okay." Ikoma took a second look that way, just to be sure. "I know them all. Oi, Fuyu."

"Eh, Ikoma." The skinny, short-haired townsman in a gray kimono waved at him. Gave the Hunters a look askance, before slipping Ikoma a wink. "Need me to go get the pitchfork?"

Ikoma snorted a laugh, surprised. "I don't think so."

"Ch'." Fuyu sighed, disappointed. "Too bad."

"Pitchfork?" Masahide murmured. He'd taken his arm out of the sling to help handle the bikes, though he was still favoring it a bit.

"First night out of Aragane," Ikoma shrugged. Now he could relax, sure the only people on the Koutetsujou who wanted him dead were from Kongokaku. Then? He wasn't sure he'd wanted to live himself. "Nobody really knew what Kabaneri were. They thought I'd turn." He had to glance down. "I... wasn't sure I wouldn't."

 _Stop it. Hozumi was like this down in Yashiro, remember? Panicking. Making bad decisions. She was just hungry_.

He'd get a few more sips of blood, that was all. After this. Falling asleep in the middle of the Hunters would be bad.

"Pitchfork." Uryuu sounded like he could picture everything that hadn't been said; cleavers, rifles, torches. "How'd you stop them?"

"I didn't," Ikoma stated, eyes up and determined. If Uryuu was going to keep his word, then he'd better understand who made that word possible. "That was Lady Ayame."

"That was a crazy idiot letting Lady Ayame stab him in the hand rather than bite her," Fuyu snorted. "He was afraid he'd _hurt_ her."

Nami, heavyset in dark gray and lighter pants, elbowed him almost gently. "You seen Mumei slam down a guy? Better to be careful. Eh, Ikoma?"

"Much better," Ikoma agreed. "If I'm going to break anything, I want it to be on purpose." He drew himself up a little, meeting Uryuu's aggressive glare with a steamsmith's iron calm. "What did you want?"

Uryuu scowled, and crossed his arms. "...We're not going to hurt the little mosquito. Okay? Even if she does bug the heck out of us."

Ikoma raised a skeptical brow. These were Hunters. If anyone on the Koutetsujou stood a chance of taking a Kabaneri down, they were the ones.

"We're _not_ ," Uryuu grumbled. "She knows how to hunt. More than you station-folk do. You need to learn that. And she needs to learn more. She's not going to if you're scared we're going to stab her in the back."

"I'm not," Ikoma fired back. "You kept your word this far. You'd stab us in the front."

Tension sang across the car. Hunters were close to too many weapons, but the Koutetsujou's people had knives and a simmering case of mad.

 _And me_ , Ikoma thought. _So what are you going to do?_

Uryuu snorted; almost a smile. Dropped his arms, the subtle threat easing out of his stance. "Nobody's stabbing anybody, okay? Had enough of that." He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Think we all have."

Ikoma couldn't hide a breath of relief. That looked real. _Felt_ real, in a way he'd never have been able to put a finger on back in Aragane. But when he'd killed the Wazatori, when he'd seen the bushi set all that hate and fear aside to join Ayame's triumphant cry...

 _Enough,_ that set of shoulders seemed to say. _Let's not fight anymore. We're alive; let's stay that way_.

"So. When it comes to explanations..." Ikoma nodded toward Eishun. "No one who could _what?_ "

Uryuu looked like he'd bitten into a plum full of vinegar. "Make another Kabaneri." He huffed. "All _theoretical_ , anyway. Doctors dreaming up stuff that probably wouldn't work. Hunters don't get hit with the slow spread. We wouldn't last long enough for them to knock us out, much less do... whatever they did to make girls like Mumei."

Fuyu and the others weren't even pretending to keep cutting. Ikoma didn't blame them. The Koutetsujou _loved_ Mumei. Even if they did think she was weird. "You don't get slow infections? Why?"

"Who knows? Why's it even matter?" A Hunter with leather headgear and a tuft of beard; Tomio, Ikoma had heard the others call him. "Die fast, die slow. You're still dead."

"It matters because we need to know our enemy," Ikoma said firmly. "The fast infections scare everyone. They should. But the slow ones make people scared of _each other_."

Fuyu and the others were chewing that over, one or two nodding. Even a few of the Hunters looked thoughtful.

"Think of it," Ikoma persisted. "What if all a station inspection had to check for was fresh bites? If everyone knew the person standing next to them wasn't going to turn in the next hour, the next day..."

Uryuu looked like he'd run into a low-hanging branch. "Seriously? That's what scares them? Anyone can be bitten, any day-!"

"No, Boss." Masahide's headshake was polite, but firm. " _We_ can be bitten any day. We're Hunters. Bushi. Hayajiro crew. We know we can die."

Fuyu stropped his knife on a rag, as if he were considering the next joint to take apart. "Lady Ayame said the real enemy is fear."

"I dunno," his friend muttered. "Teeth kind of scare me."

"They scare me too," Ikoma admitted. "Don't get bitten. It hurts."

Which was something else to ask Mumei, Ikoma thought, as snorts of disbelief turned to a few scattered laughs. If they had the bodies of Kabane, why didn't they have fangs?

Granted, newly-turned Kabane didn't have them. It must be one of the changes that took time. But how long? Mumei had been a Kabaneri two years and still looked human. And who knew how long Biba had been Kabaneri.

 _We're not Kabane. We have one inside us, but - we stopped the change. How? And can we keep it stopped?_

Argh. They had it stopped and they were going to _keep_ it stopped. He needed food. And _sleep_. "You'd better call Suzuki for the rest," Ikoma said wearily.

"Yeah, I figured," Uryuu nodded.

"In a few minutes I might start dropping things- what?" Ikoma whipped a glance at him. And no, he was not going to let the car start spinning around him. The world could stay right where it was.

Uryuu lifted a hand, waggled fingers near hazel eyes with a smirk. "You Kabaneri get heavy-lidded way before you start showing veins. Go curl up and get a nap. And eat something. Don't need you scaring the station idiots."

Damn it. "Thanks," Ikoma got out, making sure his tools were secure. "I didn't know what to look for."

Uryuu wasn't the only one gaping at him. "...Seriously?"

Ikoma snorted. "Mumei's explanations need _a lot_ of work."

"Ah, hell." Uryuu let out a breathless whistle. "Okay. Just so the Kongokaku don't _murder us all in our hammocks_... you, go keel over." He waved a hand at his men. "We don't know much, but we're going to write it down."

* * *

"We could have been killed!"

 _At least he waited until we cleared all the cars_ , Kurusu thought wryly, standing strict and proper at Ayame's shoulder. For this, Dogen had brought two of his own bushi, Naokata and Doshun, into the locomotive conference room. Meaning Ayame needed to be as fiercely and politely supported.

 _Would that they were not here. Explaining all that ensured our safety will now be... awkward_.

Ayame took a deep, deliberate breath. "Kibito."

"Yes, my lady."

"Do we have any of the test plates left?"

Kibito grinned. " _Yes_ , my lady."

Yes, indeed, and they all knew it. Kurusu kept his face straight as Kibito hauled out the very heavy box they'd kept after the demonstration at Shitori Station. Specifically so they could show other stations, and hook a lord's curiosity enough to permit a demonstration. Not all lords and ministers might be as curious about rifle shots as Yamazaki.

He stepped away from Ayame's shoulder just long enough to help Kibito pull the stack of steel plates out, blast hole face up, and lay them on the conference table. Stepped back, face neutral once more.

Dogen's bushi were too well-trained to speak, but he saw their eyes widen.

Dogen's hand twitched, as if he wished to poke the stack, before he brought it back to his side. "What is this?"

"This, Uncle, was a hanging target." Ayame paused, deliberate. "For one jet bullet."

"But... that's..."

"Armor plate, thick as a Hayajiro's walls," Ayame nodded politely. "My bushi do have to be careful when they shoot. It wouldn't do to injure the Koutetsujou."

Naokata broke first. "Lady Ayame. Do you mean, the iron cage-?"

"Is no longer an unbreakable defense," Ayame finished. "Shoot a Kabane in the heart, and it is dead."

"You were serious." Dogen shook his head, as if he couldn't believe his own words. "You can kill them."

"Stopping was dangerous," Ayame allowed. "But there were no Kabane sighted nearby, and Hunter Uryuu said this would be the best terrain to forage for some time. We need food, Uncle. We don't know how long it will be to a living station. When we first set out for Kongokaku we were supposed to restock at Yashiro Station. But when we reached it, we found the Black Smoke had smashed their defenses, and we had to rescue their survivors as well. We have to take supplies where we can find them." She paused. "In as safe a manner as reasonably possible."

"Safe-!" Dogen started.

And stopped himself. Studying Ayame _very_ intently. "Who created these bullets?"

Ayame smiled. "Why, one of our young steamsmiths, Uncle. Would you be interested in seeing the designs?"

The Elder's face was controlled and stoic as a noble's should be, but Kurusu was a swordsman. He caught that tiny flinch, as the obvious conclusion struck home.

 _Yes, Ikoma created the weapon that will slay the Kabane_ , Kurusu thought. _No, we will not cast him aside_.

"...Perhaps later," Elder Makino said stiffly. "It would be most propitious to thank their maker after we have arrived safely."

"If you think so, of course," Ayame inclined her head. "He is a bit... shy, when dealing with nobles."

If Kibito broke out laughing, Kurusu would have to hit someone. _Ikoma_ and _shy_ did not belong in the same sentence. Distracted, yes. More capable of dealing with steam than manners, certainly. Shy? Hah. Tell that to anyone who'd seen the carnage of Kabane Ikoma left behind.

"We can kill the Kabane," Dogen said, half to himself. Shook his head, and narrowed his eyes at Ayame. "But Aragane _fell_."

"The first test design was completed the night the Fusojou rammed us," Ayame said quietly. "We were fortunate. Despite everything, that steamsmith made it to the Koutetsujou."

 _Despite everything_ , Kurusu thought. _Including us_.

Odd, to look back on that night now. To remember being sure - utterly sure - that shooting Ikoma off the Hayajiro was the right, the _only_ , thing to do.

 _Knowing what I did then, I could not have made other choices. For all our sakes_.

Now... now he had other options. Other _weapons_. And an ally, willing to defend Lady Ayame and the Koutetsujou to the last breath in his body.

And possibly more important, willing to stand with Kurusu against Kibito's _utterly ridiculous_ idea. Adopt a steamsmith? Ikoma hated combat training. He did it, yes; which had to be the strongest testament to his hatred of the Kabane, given Mumei's idea of training was to beat Ikoma into the car floor - or the wall, or the pells - until he mimicked her and used that move right back.

Apparently effective, for a Kabaneri. But painful to watch. To the point that before that whole _catastrophe_ with Biba, Kibito and Keisuke had finally taken pity on the steamsmith, made Mumei sit on her hands a few minutes, and broken down the basics of a few defensive techniques.

 _We should do more of that_ , Kurusu knew. _For both of them. You teach the way you were trained; has Mumei ever had formal training?_

Ikoma _would_ train. Even in kenjutsu. Even if it made a steamsmith's knees shake. But he'd rather be up to his ears in steam and metal. Who were they to take that from him, when Ikoma had lost so much already?

 _If it were necessary to protect him, or the Koutetsujou - then I would consider it. But without that need... no_.

"We can make jet bullets on the Koutetsujou," Ayame stated. "We'll be trading for more components at the next station. This Hayajiro has survived hordes, and even a Fused Colony. I intend that we will be well-armed enough to _destroy_ a horde." She inhaled, and smiled. "Our cooks asked for a portion of the hunt, so everyone could celebrate our success and grow stronger for tomorrow. I think it should be ready by now."

Kurusu heard Kibito's quiet sigh of relief, and was hard-pressed not to twitch. Yes, they could finally acknowledge the wonderful smell of herbs and meat drifting through various speaking tubes. It was far more important to remain calm, and watch Elder Makino, to see if he would take Ayame's polite offer of a graceful retreat.

"It is good to nourish the living," Dogen agreed. "But please, niece. Let us strongly consider the costs, before another stop such as this."

"Lady Ayame?" Miyako stepped through the curtain, a bundle of silk in hand, all shades of pale and dark roses. Behind her shifted a few Aragane townswomen, all trying to keep their eyes properly down around Dogen's bushi yet still get a good look at Ayame's reaction. "Your people have brought a gift."

* * *

A/N: Before anyone jumps me for Kurusu's comparison - eagles can be very dangerous, and yes, potentially lethal to humans. They can kill wolves, and some falconers train them to do just that. An eagle can and _will_ maim you if you're not careful - or if it's not.

After a lot of head-pounding on how to depict Suzuki's bilingual dialogue when I'm writing in English, this is what I came up with. _He_ hears the honorifics, because they're not in his first language. For everyone else, that's just "how people talk".

The principles behind ice machines were figured out by the early 1800s, and they were being built in a lot of places by the late 1800s. Especially on trains, and some British merchant ships. (The _Dunedin_ was a historical refrigerated freight ship.) Suzuki could well have tinkered one together.

Kabaneri senses: These are my best guesses based on canon bits of the Kabaneri we see in action, Ikoma being able to spot Biba's smile across a battlefield, Mumei reading tunnel signs at what's apparently too high a speed for the steamsmiths, and Mumei's ability to identify Ikoma as _not_ Kabane (and not human anymore) by sniffing him. Not enhanced vision, but enhanced motion perception and chemosensory abilities.

Uryuu doesn't know it, but the operation he describes is not how Ikoma became Kabaneri. Which is... interesting, in canon and implications.


	4. Chapter 4

_Smells good_. Sitting on one corner of his bunk, shifting his feet so various small chattering groups didn't step on them, Ikoma breathed in the warmth of stewed meat, sweet potato, and whatever strange herbs people had found. _A little odd, but good_.

Close enough on the bunk to bump him, Kajika's foundlings settled down a little; as if they _finally_ believed they'd get seconds. Though Kajika hadn't waved for another serving yet, busy trying to convince baby Ikko not to chew spilled stew out of his shirt. Kibito was seated across the way, gesturing with a spoon to some of the other bushi as they went over the more dramatic parts of pulling out, trying not to laugh as the kids gave Kajika and dark-haired Tsuta wide, pleading eyes.

A shimmer like rose petals caught his eye. Ikoma smiled as Ayame stopped by yet another small group to exchange a few words on how were their neighbors, what ideas did they have for the salvage, and how had the spices in the stew come out here, every car seemed to have found a different blend...

 _They made something she can fight in_ , Ikoma thought, watching the way silks and linen flowed with her steps, never binding where it mattered. _I wish I could have seen Kurusu's face_.

He hadn't yet seen the samurai's legendary incandescent blush when dealing with their lady and heir. But he'd heard enough from Kibito... and Takumi, with the bamboo wishes...

Well. He was kind of looking forward to watching those two. Just because _he'd_ never had time for anything besides being friends, between learning about Kabane, secret experiments on monstrous heart tissue, and trying not to blow himself up-

Kurusu didn't just keep Ayame safe. He kept her stronger. Hopeful. _Happy_. And Ayame gave Kurusu a reason to fight when the whole world went crazy. The Koutetsujou needed all of that they could get.

 _Hope someone saves a little extra stew for Kurusu_.

The samurai had eaten his bowl even more quickly than the children, before he'd headed back to the second car to help the Hunters wheel their bikes back to the security of their beehive. Not because they needed the muscle, Ikoma knew. Because even with good food taking the edge off hunger and grief, the Hunters weren't _safe_. They needed the confident presence of a bushi the Hayajiro trusted. So long as Kurusu was there, people would believe there was no problem... and so hopefully, there would _be_ no problem.

 _I'd get the bikes out of reach, too_ , Ikoma had to admit. _They're sturdy, but it'd be so easy for some idiot to tamper with them_.

There were somewhere around two hundred Kongokaku on the Koutetsujou. Odds were there were at least five idiots. Possibly more, given the whole guns and torches mess.

 _Not that we haven't had a few reckless people of our own_ , Ikoma knew, watching Tsuta pat her bun back into shape, then fuss over the other three orphans with suspiciously shiny eyes. The young widow might have slapped Uryuu with intent to bruise, but he didn't think she'd sabotage the bikes. Even if she had lost her son. She was sensible. Practical. Grieving, yes, like all of them; but throwing herself into things that needed to be done on the Koutetsujou.

The kids on the bunk with Kajika, now... they were old enough to know the Hunters had done something horrible, and not old enough to understand why the adults on the Koutetsujou hadn't done something even more horrible right back. Even with Tsuta's help, Kajika couldn't watch them every minute. And speaking as someone who _might_ have had his own little-idiot-kid moments _many_ years ago... it didn't take more than a second to throw a rock into the right place. Or the wrong one.

 _At least food's a good distraction_.

For everyone else, anyway. One of the most annoying things about being Kabaneri was he could smell what he couldn't eat. Whatever strange things had ended up in those pots, his mouth still watered at the thought.

 _You ate already_ , Ikoma reminded himself firmly, taking another resolute pull at his water bottle. _You can get another treat tomorrow_.

Suzuki's little contraption couldn't make that much ice yet; what there was had gone to keeping some of the more perishable meat and greens fresh, and cool drinks for the elderly and very young in the summer heat. Right now Hozumi was probably hovering over the steamsmith's shoulder to get her own chilled water. Good for her.

"So!" A brunette townswoman Ikoma had seen go bargaining with Kajika raised her ladle, purple cord tying back the sleeves of her short brown robe. "Are your young apprentices ready for seconds?"

The orphans grinned at _apprentices_. Ikoma tried not to quail in terror at the thought. If anyone ever figured out a way to _bargain_ Kabane dead, Kajika would clear the whole of Hi-no-moto in a month. A year, tops.

"Are you sure, Aguri?" From across the way, Ayame looked up hopefully. "Rationing-"

"Won't do a bit of good with this, my lady." Aguri patted one handle of the pot. "I know steamsmiths live on black tea and jerky, and bushi love fish as much as cats. But this is innards, and they don't keep. Better for everyone to eat all they can stuff down."

The kids didn't need any more of an invitation, bouncing off the bunk to get their bowls filled again. Kibito wasn't too far behind, steadying little Ikko when the toddler did his best to hold his mug up straight.

Ikoma breathed out a sigh of relief, watching some of the shadows ease around people's eyes. Though Kajika wasn't the only one squinting at the reddish, lemony-smelling tea Aguri offered along with it. "No, you need to drink that," Ikoma put in, when Kajika hesitated. "I was talking to Suzuki about traveling on a Hayajiro. He says it's like being on a ship; you can come down with scurvy if you're not careful. So... he can't get limes, but this works just as well."

"What's scurvy?" One of the kids wondered.

"You get sick and lose all your teeth," Aguri said with evil relish. "And you don't even get to say Hozumi beat you up. Eww."

" _Eww!"_

 _I will never understand kids_ , Ikoma decided, as the youngsters swarmed Aguri for the tea. "Kajika..."

"I know, I know, but - pine needles? You first," Kajika muttered. Jumped, and looked abashed. "I mean-"

"You probably could." Taking her own second bowl, Ayame brightened. "It's _tea_."

 _Biba could drink tea_ , Ikoma realized, as Kajika brightened and Aguri frowned. _Right, she doesn't know about Biba. Cover for that_. "It is mostly hot water. So... maybe just a little?"

Looking doubtful, Aguri poured him half a cup. Ikoma breathed in the steam, and carefully sipped.

 _Sharp. Bright_.

Not a bad sharpness. Like a lemon he'd gotten once, tasting his fingers after he'd squeezed it over a bowl of moat carp. Sour in a way that woke him up, with a hint of forests and boiler heat.

 _One sip. And wait_.

Staring eyes. A lot of them.

"So far, okay," Ikoma shrugged, uncomfortable with the heavy silence. "I'll just drink it slowly." _In case it's suddenly not okay_.

That seemed to get the party back on its feet, even if Kibito did glance at him now and again. Ikoma tried another slow sip, and relaxed back against the car wall.

 _Not bad. Sharp, but - it's not water, and it's not blood. I could get used to it_.

He didn't rush. Just because Biba had drunk tea - they didn't know how long he'd been doing that, if it was a specific tea, if he'd had to build up to it.

 _So many variables,_ the steamsmith thought. _So much we don't know. It's been almost three weeks since I had anything different. Take it slow_.

He finished the cup about the same time as everyone else was scraping their bowls. Sighed, though he tried to keep it low. _If this works, I'm going to lay in a whole pile of teas for both of us_.

And he'd definitely keep drinking the pine needles. If Suzuki said they needed this to keep off scurvy, and scurvy made people think worse - Hozumi said Kabaneri still had human minds. Better safe than sorry.

Slurping out her own bowl, Aguri grinned. Worked her ladle around inside the pot, and cast a look up and down the car. "Still a bit more, if anyone wants it!"

The kids flopped back against bunks and Kajika, groaning. Ayame dabbed at her lips, and shook her head. "I couldn't eat another bite," she said ruefully, glancing at Kibito. "Please, don't let me stop you."

"Haven't eaten this well since Shitori." The bushi held out his bowl. "Maybe half, eh? It is good."

Ikoma watched the rest of the car go for a bit more or join the kids in flaking out and enjoying some quiet time with nothing trying to kill them and the promise of plenty to eat tomorrow, too. Conversations rose and fell; Tsuta was poking at an old gardening tract with Ayame and discussing how she thought the writer had missed some of the most important steps in planting berries. One of the townsmen had broken out a tiny carved wooden shogi board, even if some of the pieces had been improvised with bits of pebble and a bent screw, and he and Keisuke were currently engaged in a battle of wits to the death, with a half-dozen kibitzers on either side.

 _It really does smell good_ , Ikoma thought wistfully, cradling his cup in his hand. _And the tea stayed down_...

Hozumi didn't know everything about Kabaneri, after all. Could Biba have hidden what he was around all his Hunters if he couldn't eat?

 _And we don't have the doctors' tools from the Kokujou_. Ikoma was careful, very careful, not to grip the cup too hard. _Every time someone from the Koutetsujou gives blood, that's another open wound. Another chance for the Kabane to infect them. If we could eat even sometimes, instead of drinking blood_...

Decided, Ikoma stood up, and made his way over to the dregs of the pot. "If there's really enough... maybe half a spoonful?"

That spread a hush around him, and no few frank and furtive glances for any strangers who might have somehow snuck into the locomotive.

 _And we're going to have to watch that, too_ , Ikoma thought, trying not to let his temper boil at the thought. _For as long as Hozumi and I have to hide what we are - all of us are going to be looking over our shoulders. It's not right!_

Well. There were a lot of things not right with the world. One step at a time.

"Chew it slowly," Aguri advised, tipping just a little into his empty cup. "This is the bottom of the pot, and you never know when some idiot not used to butchering might leave in a bone bit."

Ikoma winced at the thought, and retreated back to his bunk for a tentative sniff. It still smelled good. If strange.

 _I wonder what they put in it?_

Couldn't be anything too bad; the kids certainly weren't complaining. And Kajika hadn't wrinkled her nose, either, even a little bit. So she must think it was okay.

 _I haven't chewed anything in... ack. Way too long_.

His jaw actually felt a little sore working through the stew, though the meat wasn't that tough. Ow.

 _If my jaw aches this much, Hozumi's going to have an awful time trying to eat. Maybe we should look for chewing resin at the next station, so she can get used to_ -

Twisting. Burning. A lurch inside, that made the whole world spin.

Hand clapped over his mouth, Ikoma bolted for the latrine.

* * *

Even through a closed door, the faint sounds of retching made Kajika want to cringe.

Putting down his bowl, Kibito winced. "That doesn't sound good."

"What do we do?" Tsuta hugged one of the youngsters close. "If there's something wrong with the stew - or people think there is..."

Panic could spread even faster than the Kabane. Kajika squared her shoulders, and headed for the door. "Just say it's been so long since we had them, we forgot Ikoma can't have mushrooms."

"You think they'll believe that?" Aguri muttered.

"Of course they will," Ayame said with bright determination. "Everyone knows steamsmiths don't eat refined foods." Pink shifted, more hesitant. "Do you think he's all right?"

"Ikoma's tough," Kajika replied. And hoped she was right. Closer to the door, Ikoma sounded even worse. "But... maybe someone could go get Hozumi?"

 _Just in case he's not fine... no, he will be. It's just an upset stomach. Idiot. Weeks since he's eaten anything; we should have started with clear soup! And I'm going to tell him that. Right now_.

Braced with indignation, Kajika yanked open the door and went in.

Ikoma was clinging to one of the wall-grips meant so people didn't slide off on a turn, pale as a dead fish. He didn't look up.

 _Never letting him at scissors again, he needs his hair to grow out if he wants to hide what he's... thinking_...

Kajika gulped, and backed up against the door, seeing that hot-steel glow of veins lacing Ikoma's skin. _Oh no. It's like the mountains, with the Wazatori. He must have been_ really _sick_.

But she'd seen this then, and with Hozumi, and it wasn't anything to be scared of. She knew what to do. "You can't go out there like that," Kajika said firmly, crossing the small space between them. "You have a vial on you; you always do." _So why hasn't he- oh, you're an idiot, he doesn't have a hand free, now does he?_

And if Ikoma had been throwing up - well, she knew what that was like. Even when you were on solid ground, you felt like you might fall over with just a sneeze. Not to mention it left you dizzy and miserable and not really thinking straight for a minute.

 _Poor Ikoma_. "Just hang on," Kajika patted his shirt, feeling the long shape of bamboo tucked out of sight. "I can get it-"

Pale fingers let go.

"Oof! You're heavy," Kajika said crossly, standing up under the weight of muscle and bone as her friend leaned into her shoulder. "Ikoma. Help me out. Just let me find your lunch..."

A long breath tickled her neck and hair. In, and out, and in.

 _And I thought it was just Hozumi who fell over after a fight_. Kajika huffed. "Don't go to sleep on me-"

Another slow inhalation. Ikoma's head bumped her shoulder.

That didn't seem sleepy. Exactly. Kajika frowned, ducking her head to look her sick friend in the eye.

 _Red eyes_.

Still brown, but glowing red, like deeply banked embers. Which... was almost as heart-stopping as the veins, but she'd seen that with Hozumi too. What worried her more was the dazed look on Ikoma's face. Like he wasn't quite awake.

 _Stay calm_ , Kajika told herself. _He's there. He's not biting anyone, right? So that's Ikoma_. "When you wake up all the way I am going to let you have it about trying that stew. You idiot. Now come on, let me find that vial..."

* * *

Familiar scent, young-things and plant-things and a bit of soap. Familiar voice, rising and falling in an unhurried rhythm.

Kajika. That's Kajika. Can't hurt her. Won't!

But not feeling right. Sick. Tired. Hungry. Where was food?

I'm not going to hurt Kajika!

Silly. Known-scent _brought_ food. Sooner or later. Just needed to be reminded.

* * *

"Hozumi's here," Kibito's voice came through the door. "Everything all right in there?"

"I think so?" Kajika tried not to squeak, as Ikoma went from a gentle but determined bump at her shoulder to a determined _lean_. With odd, light pats; like an oversized cat wondering why bits of fish were still in a human's bowl and not dropped yet. "I could use another hand, he's heavy. And a little out of it." Or maybe a lot out of it. Given the soft _grumpy_ noises along with the patting, like Ikko being too hungry to sleep and too sleepy to really eat. "Just you two, be careful..."

"Not like more than us are going to fit," Kibito chuckled, opening the door just enough to squeeze in. Halting, just for a second, as Ikoma's head jerked up, and Hozumi stifled a gasp.

 _She's white_ , Kajika thought, as Kibito made sure no one looked through the door past them. _Why? They've been hungry before_.

Kibito eased all the way in, moving slow and harmless. "Ah. We have a problem?"

Grim, Hozumi reached slowly down for coated bayonets.

"He'll be okay," Kajika said firmly; as if she could make it so just by telling the world that. "I just need to get - got it!"

She slipped out the red-banded bamboo tube, watching Ikoma's gaze switch between sleepy blinks at Kibito, a head-tilt at Hozumi, and definite perk at the sight of the familiar meal. "Here we are," Kajika breathed. "You know what this is, let me get the lid off..."

He blinked at her like a wary cat, but drank when she held it to his lips. Kept drinking, veins slowly vanishing, until the blood ran dry.

Slowly, red faded out of brown eyes. "...Kajika?"

Hozumi slumped against Kibito, trembling. "You're you?"

"I'm still a Kabaneri." Ikoma took a deep breath. "I'm just... really tired. What happened?"

"Oh, now that's going to be a story," Kibito said wryly, covering the tiny space in one stride. "No, don't try to walk, you scared us enough already." He crouched, and heaved.

"What are you- Door!" Ikoma sputtered, as Kibito hefted him over his shoulder like a bundle of rails. "Not going to _fit-!_ "

"So duck," Kibito grinned. "Come on. Let's show everybody you just got the wrong mushroom."

* * *

Waiting for the explanation was a nightmare.

 _I didn't hurt anybody_ , Ikoma told himself firmly, sticking to water as he huddled in his bunk, waiting for enough people to go to bed so they could talk. _They would have said if I had_.

Not to mention there would have been panic, riots, and gunfire. But there was a fuzzy spot in his memory between the stew and blinking at Kajika, and what he did remember was unnerving.

 _Scents. Trust, but - being annoyed. Waiting for... food_.

Maybe as unnerving as Sukari's sudden smile, the blond steamsmith listening intently as Lady Ayame and Kurusu got a few murmured details out of Kibito and Hozumi. Ikoma grimaced. He'd made himself sick, worried Kajika, and frightened Hozumi. What was there to smile about?

Ikoma tensed, seeing Kurusu go samurai-straight. _They've made a decision. They didn't even ask me, they just_ -

Sukari murmured a few words.

Hozumi stared at him. Kurusu glared. Ayame... covered a giggle.

Kibito grinned. Slipped Ikoma a wink, and murmured something to Keisuke. Who blinked, startled, and shook his head.

But Ayame and Kurusu both looked _relieved_ , so Ikoma set himself to wait.

 _Not that I really want to get up_ , the steamsmith admitted to himself, exhausted. _Bad idea_.

Every inch the lady of Aragane, Ayame stopped by his bunk, and touched his hand. "It's all right. Everything's fine now. Get some rest."

"I'm not fine," Ikoma insisted. Switched his stare to Kurusu; the samurai was practical enough to protect Ayame, no matter what had to be done. "I still don't know what happened, but if it happens again-!"

Kurusu's lips twitched. "Don't touch any stew with mushrooms."

Easy for him to say. The way Hozumi kept glancing at him, like she wasn't sure he was still himself...

Kurusu caught the direction of his glance, and scowled. "Lady Ayame is correct. You are fine now. And while this was not an opportune event - I think, once you hear their account, you will see we have cause to be much less worried than we had thought."

Ikoma watched the three of them head for the conference room, then aimed what he hoped was a determined glare at Kibito. From the way Kajika was still fussing with his sheets, nobody was impressed. "What did I do?"

"Asked her to feed you." Kibito grinned, though it had a serious edge. "Good thing you keep a tube on you. We'd better make that an everyday thing. One good bokken hit to your skull and we might need to use it."

"I what?" Ikoma turned toward Kajika, shaken. Because he _had_ attacked Ayame, once, and this time Kurusu hadn't been around to smack him out of it.

"You just sniffed me." Kajika patted at his shoulder. "And bumped me. Like this. You didn't even grab me. You just didn't want me to leave."

That made no sense. "Hozumi thinks if Kabaneri get too hungry, they might..." Ikoma shook his head. "Why... if I was that hungry... I didn't hurt anyone?"

"No." Kajika poked him, right by the ribbon. "Like you ever would."

"Hozumi might not know it could be safe," Sukari said thoughtfully. "Didn't you say you have a hard time getting her to drink enough?"

Kajika nodded sharply. "She even left her lunch behind in Shitori!"

"That's what I was thinking of," the blond agreed. "If you're always hungry, it's hard to believe people aren't your enemies."

"And if your head's already muddled... huh," Kibito mused.

 _We need to take better care of her_ , Ikoma thought. Because he knew exactly what Sukari was talking about. The first year after the fall of his home station had been a hungry one. After that, when his skills as a steamsmith had been enough to keep food in his bowl every day - then an odd missed meal wasn't the end of the world.

 _Hozumi thought it was, in Yashiro Station_.

Ikoma grimaced just thinking about it. The girl who could take down bushi one-handed and carve her way through an entire Kabane horde in minutes had gone from mulish stubbornness to outright _panic_ , seeing the veins appear on her skin. She hadn't thought to carry blood, she hadn't even considered asking if he was - she'd just panicked, desperate not to turn into a Kabane.

Damn it. He was going to have to sit on her and make sure she drank regularly, because that mess had been absolutely _ridiculous_. He'd fought just as long and hard as she had, and he hadn't been anywhere near thirsty. That Hozumi had hit her limit so soon... one way or another, they had to convince her that shorting herself on blood was not just risky, but _stupid_.

"We need to get her to take care of herself," Ikoma muttered. "But how?"

"Well, I know what works on steamsmiths," Kajika declared. "You tell them they won't do their best work if they don't get something besides black tea and old jerky. Hozumi might not want to do it for herself, but she would for the Koutetsujou." She gave Ikoma a satisfied nod. "Like you will. We just need to be more careful. No more stew! You stick to tea. And then, in a few days, if you feel better, maybe we'll try a very weak clear soup."

Ikoma swallowed. "Do you think we should? That was... scary."

"This time we'll know what to do if you can't keep it down," Kibito said firmly. "We'll be prepared."

"Very prepared." Sukari had a small, wry smile. "I wonder if someone in the next station keeps geese?"

"Geese?" Ikoma asked warily.

Sukari nodded, arms crossed in amusement. "Ever had a persistent cat?"

 _Somehow, I know I'm going to regret this_ , Ikoma thought. "I fed some of the cats in Aragane..."

"They must not have thought you were their human, or you'd know," Sukari declared. "Your explosions probably made them think twice, cats are smarter than most people... a _persistent_ cat cannot be ignored. Try to work? Try to read? You have a cat on your lap. Or on your hands. Or perched on your shoulder. Oh, whenever you pick it up and move it, the cat goes. And two seconds later you have a cat on your _head_."

Kajika was pink. Keisuke looked slightly dubious. Kibito...

The bushi wasn't even trying to hide his grin. "Damn. Looks like Kurusu was right."

"He'll never let us hear the end of it," Keisuke mused.

Kibito looked at him askance. "Oh, now, he wouldn't..."

"Say anything? Gloat? No," Keisuke agreed. "Those eyebrows say it all."

He might still be a bit muzzy-headed, but Ikoma was adding two and two and coming up with a number he didn't like at all. "Wait. Are you saying, when I was out of it...?"

Kajika had a faint smile on her face, as she rested a hand on his shoulder. "You were sleepy, grumpy, and very persistent."

 _Oh no_.

"So, geese," Sukari explained. "I need to find you a feather."

... _I am never going to live this down_.

* * *

"He didn't hurt anyone." Hozumi shivered, arms wrapped around herself; as if she were somehow lost in the dark, not in the lamp-lit conference room so they could talk freely. "That wasn't just Ikoma sleepwalking. That was the Kabane, I felt it!"

Kurusu frowned, even as his lady hugged the young Kabaneri. "It's fortunate he didn't experiment while there were any of Kongokaku in the car. That could have gone badly."

Not that he thought Ikoma would have been reckless enough to try eating if he hadn't been surrounded by friendly faces. The steamsmith could be obsessed, but he wasn't stupid.

"You really think his Kabane knows us," Ayame said softly.

Kurusu let out a slow breath, considering his words carefully. "What I know," he stated, "is that from the first night it existed, other Kabane have tried to kill it. When we walked through Kongokaku, the hordes _turned away_ from humans they were about to feed on to attack Ikoma. _They_ recognized him as an enemy." He sought Hozumi's frightened gaze. "He said he found you by scent. If our scents are familiar, if Ikoma's Kabane is aware enough to realize we are those who provide food without the risk of battle..."

"You can't trust it!" Hozumi insisted. "We can't let it take over. Ever."

"I do not trust it," Kurusu stated. "But I do not fear it." He glanced at Lady Ayame. "As an eagle on the fist. It is dangerous to the unwary. Yet I do not think it is _hostile_."

"We'll all just have to remember to be careful, if something goes wrong." Ayame smiled then, impish. "It won't be hard to remind Ikoma not to be reckless. All we'll need to do... is wave a feather."

* * *

 _Help me. Help me_...

Hatsune, skin gray, eyes glowing, staring at him as if the Kabane couldn't decide if he were prey or... something else.

 _Help. Me_.

 _Dream_ , Ikoma told himself fiercely, fighting to move, to wake up, as glowing eyes drew nearer. As Hatsune's form wavered, living sister to Kabane twisting to Hozumi with lava-hot veins across her face. _Just a dream_...

 _Help. Me?_

Gray fingers reached out, a blue butterfly clinging with prickles of black feet.

 _That's... new_.

 _Help_. Wavering from flesh to gray to veins, fingers pointed at him. _Help?_

Not a scream. A question.

 _Who are you?_ Ikoma tried to ask. _What are you?_

But he couldn't hear any words. Just a soft flutter of wings, as another blue butterfly clung to his hand.

 _It tickles_.

The girl's butterfly was patient, waiting, wings barely moving. His was climbing over fingers and knuckles, exploring every dip of skin, as if it were bent on mapping every hair of his hand. And tugging.

How a butterfly could tug him closer to a maybe-Kabane made no sense. But it was a dream.

Fingers. Almost close enough to touch. The girl's butterfly... took flight, flicking wings like snapped fingers.

His own took off, swooping in turning circles around hers. Hovering, then circling around her flightpath again, as if inviting company.

Burning eyes glanced at him, and the butterflies. _Help?_

Ikoma would have sworn, if he could. _I'm trying, I'm trying, why can't I say anything_ -

Red, pouring across his vision in a flurry of wings from the east. The blue butterflies fled, fighting headwinds back to them, feet prickling as his own found refuge above his heart-

 _Help me!_

* * *

"Kabane!"

The hilt of Kurusu's sword hit the support for the bunk above him, jarring down his arm to wake him up before his hair could get caught. He blinked, sweeping the night-dark car for any trace of that deadly glow. Nothing, nothing-

A familiar shadow in the shadows; Kajika, trying to soothe their fevered Kabaneri back to sleep. "It's okay, Ikoma, you're having a nightmare..."

Hozumi's guns clicked; a hint of light gleamed off her headgear. "No. He's not." She craned her head toward the window-slits. "They're out there. Not close, but... I can hear them."

Kurusu located a candle-lantern by touch; decided to avoid the light, for now. "Can they hear you?"

Hozumi's eyes widened; then creased in a frown. "I don't know. But the Koutetsujou's not quiet."

Waking up beside him, Kibito rubbed bleary eyes and snorted. "Isn't that the truth. I'll rouse the men. You tell Yukina's second he'd better get ready to speed up."

Kurusu nodded, and hurried forward. Curtains, steps...

Nidai glanced back at him in surprise, glasses flashing against the steamsmith's dark hair. "We need to stop?"

"No," Kurusu said bluntly, heading for the periscope. "Hozumi says there's a horde."

"Out here?" Nidai sounded rightfully incredulous, even as he scanned gauges and tapped the pressure dial for luck. "There's no station, no fallen towns..."

 _No prey_ , Kurusu finished that thought silently, swinging the scope around away from the arc of the Koutetsujou's lamps down the track, into the empty night.

...Not empty.

The samurai stared at yellow-red glows in the night, and forced himself to estimate numbers. Besides just _a lot_.

 _It's... not that many_ , Kurusu concluded, surprised. _A few hundred. No more_.

More than enough to overwhelm a Hayajiro, if they'd been caught off-guard, especially if the Kabane used the tactic they'd met in the mountains: leap from high ground, above the arc of most rifle fire, and surge through a door or beat in the very walls with inhuman fists. Still enough of a swarm to kill the Koutetsujou if they were forced to stop and luck went horribly against them. But compared to the forces of Kabane they'd met recently, the horde was small.

 _Why?_

Reasons later. "Keep an eye on the tracks," Kurusu ordered. "Prepare to increase speed-"

"We can't!" Nidai shoved back hair with frustrated fingers. "There's a curve just ahead. Any faster than this, and - you'll never wake everyone up in time!"

 _We can't risk derailing_. "Then get someone on the cannon," Kurusu ordered, watching the flow of lava-light as the horde angled their direction. "This will be close."

 _It's a horde, not a Fused Colony. They can't run faster than humans._

 _...Well. Not much_.

But some of them were closer to the tracks than others, and they'd be even closer as the Koutetsujou powered around the curve-

Kurusu blinked, cursing the late hour. " _Why_ do the tracks curve?"

"There's a granite hill on the left-" Nidai blanched.

 _High ground._ Kurusu bit back a curse, grabbed for a speaking tube instead. "Ridgeline left! Be ready to repel."

Back to the scope, firing would go so much better if they knew exactly which angles the Kabane would jump from-

Lights flashed off twisted metal.

Kurusu blinked, and swung the scope around to focus on a long, torn rectangle of steel smashed against the glittery gray of blast-cut granite. _It can't be_...

"Kurusu!" Lady Ayame's voice; from that rustle, still donning her outer jacket. "Kabane? From where?"

"A derailed car," the samurai declared.

"What?"

Not looking, he stepped away from the scope, so Lady Ayame could see tattered steel while Miyako tugged sleep-wrinkled cloth into proper lines. "Nidai. We need to watch for more wreckage. Either a Hayajiro shed a car as a last resort, or..."

 _Or the Fusojou wasn't the first Hayajiro Kabane tried to steer_.

"Is there enough room to get past?" Ayame stepped back, letting another steamsmith at the scope; Sukari; Kurusu noted with relief. "It looks so close."

"It's close," Sukari agreed. "I think we can make it." He paused. "If they don't push the damn wreck into the tracks." He glanced at Kurusu. "We're too close for the cannon."

"Then use your best judgment on speed, Nidai," Ayame decreed.

"Right," the apprentice engineer breathed. "Here we go..."

Light gleamed again on torn and rusted steel. Barely rusted, Kurusu noted, as the Koutetsujou entered the curve. The car couldn't have been lost long. A year, perhaps. Maybe less.

"Kurusu." Ayame had her hands folded; steady, if not exactly calm. "In the future we need to review the maps more carefully."

"Yes, my lady."

"It might be wise to ask Hunter Uryuu to speak in our planning sessions." Ayame's voice barely trembled, as the force of the train's turn shoved at them all. "And station one of his men with our night watch, so we can ask questions on... the likelihood of certain Kabane behavior."

"That may be more difficult," Kurusu allowed, listening to a scatter of shots from above. Aiming left, both up and down. Measured shots; no flurry of panic that would demand he leave Ayame's side. "Uryuu does not yet trust his men's safety with all those on the train. We can offer our own escort, but he may be difficult to convince..."

Twisted steel seemed to rush at them, as Nidai kept his gaze on critical dials, leaving Sukari to call out their estimated clearance in a low, even voice.

 _It's going to be close_.

Ayame started, as if a thought had suddenly struck her. "Ikoma's not-?"

"Kajika has him in hand," Kurusu reassured her. _I hope_. The steamsmith could be reckless when others' safety was at stake. And being sick didn't help anyone's judgment.

 _Damn Biba. If only we knew what Kabaneri medicine was!_

"Three feet!" Sukari gripped the scope, white-knuckled. "If our passage doesn't shift it-!"

It shouldn't, from what effects Kurusu had seen of train-draft on passing cars... but then, he'd guess the steamsmith was worried less about the car than random pieces blown about into the undercarriage. Sukari had seen enough of the Koutetsujou's linkage bar in motion to stop any man's heart.

Lights flashed past steel, and the locomotive was through the curve.

Sukari kept the scope moving as Nidai inched their speed up, keeping eyes on the high ground. Nidai took one hand off the controls just long enough to wipe sweat away from his glasses.

More shots. Still measured; tapering off from the front, though the rear cars seemed to be firing at almost the same rate as the Koutetsujou eeled back onto straight tracks-

 _No_ , Kurusu realized. _They're slowing too_.

Another two volleys. Silence.

Ayame took a long, shuddering breath. Straightened her shoulders, and stepped over to the speaking tubes. "All cars, report in."

Kurusu listened to the tinny _all-clears_ coming in, from the locomotive back. First car through the fifth...

"Car six." Uryuu's voice, not blurred with sleep at all. "All clear."

Ayame's smile rang through her voice. "Well done, everyone. We will soon slow to normal cruising speed. Return to your watches. Or your bunks, if we interrupted your night. According to the map, the rails should be clear until late morning." Her tone lightened. "And then we just might get to try everyone's plans to fish!"

* * *

Elder Dogen leaned back against the wall of the car above his bunk, not at all ready to close his eyes.

 _Return to your watches? Go back to_ bed?

Naokata wasn't the only one of his bushi who looked absolutely daunted, as those few of Aragane Station in view determinedly pulled sheets or stray clothing over their heads against any flickers of light, and quickly dropped back off to sleep.

As if the gunfire had been nothing. As if _another horde of Kabane_ \- was nothing to worry about, once the cars had been declared cleared.

"How can they be this calm, Elder?" Naokata said under his breath. "If anyone fought the Kabane, even if the blood only blew on the wind..."

 _Someone might be infected_ , Dogen finished silently. It was a terror he'd known himself, in the years before Kongokaku had perfected its inspections. There were reasons the city had quarantined everyone, wounds or not. Those of Aragane should know that better than anyone!

Yet they were _asleep_. As if they were utterly certain none of their defenders would carry the virus into the Hayajiro.

 _Ayame believes the Kabaneri can sense the Kabane_.

If that were so... if those of the Koutetsujou truly knew who was and was not at risk...

 _They've destroyed that fear_ , Dogen realized. _But at what cost?_

He was no expert on the Kabane, but he knew enough. If Mumei claimed they had the bodies of Kabane, likely they had the virus as well. One slip, one bite, and the Kabaneri themselves could start an outbreak.

 _It's a demon's bargain. Ayame has to know that_.

Yet he could see no way to extricate his niece from her own honor. Ikoma had been a steamsmith of Aragane; Mumei, from what he'd learned, had cleared the path to the Koutetsujou so Aragane's survivors could escape. Were they human, Ayame would owe them her protection. A noble's duties demanded no less.

 _But they are not_.

"Elder?" Naokata frowned.

 _There is nothing I can do now_ , Dogen told himself. _Get to a living station, and then... then we may have options_. "Those of Koutetsujou are likely more exhausted than we are," the elder said dryly. "This will be their nineteenth day on the rails. I can't remember the last time I heard of passengers on a Hayajiro that long." He rolled a shoulder at a time, deliberately working out battle-tension. "And if they were going to have sleepless nights, they'd save them for a few days. If the map is right, one of the possible routes might take us past Keishi."

That chilled his bushi, and no few of his listening people. "The Lost City?" Doshun dared. "But... that's..."

"Quite possibly one of the safest routes we could take," Dogen admitted, grudging the truth of it. "It's been twenty years since the Kabane swallowed it. That long with no prey? They'll have moved on."

 _Or slept. We don't know how long they can sleep_.

But bringing that up would only frighten his people further. "We may as well trust that my niece's men know what they're doing," Dogen stated. "Get some rest. Even on the shortest route, we have long days ahead of us."

Determined, he leaned back into a threadbare pillow, and closed his eyes.

It was a very long time before he slept.

* * *

Kajika breathed in morning-cool river air, gripping the railing with dozens of others as the Koutetsujou coasted to a stop. A deep river under them, the strong steel of the bridge rising around them - as long as they kept a watch on both directions, they should be safe.

 _Like the moat at Aragane._ Kajika looked up, as the crane swung over the side with someone's first attempt at a net. _Kabane can't swim_...

Oh. And an _eep_ that for once didn't have to do with how Hozumi had silently appeared at her elbow. "Can you swim?"

"Yes." Hozumi tilted her head, quizzical. "Why?"

"I guess I was wondering why Kabane can't," Kajika confessed. "Before Kongokaku, Ikoma fell into the water..." And she couldn't say more about that, not when she couldn't see every listening ear.

"Kabane are heavy. And clumsy." The Kabaneri girl frowned. "Ikoma might know. If we can get his fever down."

Ikoma might know more than the Hunters about Kabane? That was kind of scary.

Though the fever was scarier. Oh, Ikoma wasn't out of his head, wasn't raving; wasn't even _absent_ , the way he'd been before a good drink of blood had woken him back up. He was just... sick. Like a bad cold, without the sniffles.

 _Or like someone who got bad food and couldn't stop throwing up for a whole day_ , Kajika told herself firmly, pushing away from the rail to head back into the locomotive. _Ice water's helping. Blood helps. Maybe something else will_. "I have an idea for that. If you could help me try it?"

That won her Hozumi's bounce, eager as gearing up for a fight. "What are we going to do?"

"Something a little bit risky," Kajika admitted, stepping into their almost-empty sleeping quarters; outside of a skeleton engine crew, anyone who could get out in the sun, was. "But not as risky as that idiot and stew!"

"I still don't know why that happened." Hozumi frowned at Ikoma, curled up in his bunk with one of the snoring kids; shivering, now and again. "If food doesn't work, why didn't he just throw up?"

"Just throwing up _can_ make you this sick, if you can't get enough salt and water back in." Kajika frowned. "Some of the old grannies told me about it, back in Aragane. Stories about long before the stations were built, when Suzuki's people first came over the sea; sometimes people would catch something from bad water, and they could throw up so much they'd die."

Hozumi paled. "Did the stories say how to fix it?"

"Salt and sweet water," Kajika nodded, bringing out the little pot of honey she'd taken from the stores to mix a spoonful in a cup of water, with a few careful dashes of salt. "The problem is, I don't want to make Ikoma any worse. So... would you try just a little of it?" She hesitated. "It might make you sick, just like the stew did to Ikoma."

"But you don't think so." Hozumi peered at the pale gold liquid, curious. "Why?"

"Lady Ayame said Biba had tea with her. If he could have honey and tea, then maybe the two of you can, too. Ikoma drank Suzuki's tea, and nothing happened; not until he tried stew." Kajika tried not to hold her breath, as Hozumi took the cup. "Just take a little sip. And wait."

The Kabaneri girl nodded, fierce as facing down a horde. Raised the cup to her lips, and took one careful swallow.

Brown eyes widened.

 _Oh no - oh no, I made them both sick, what are we going to do-?_

"...You know how to make the medicine?"

Kajika leaned against an empty bunk, startled by the hope in Hozumi's voice. "It's just honey-water-"

"No! This is the medicine!" Hozumi bounded up onto Ikoma's bunk, careful not to spill a drop as she lifted little Ikko out of the way. "Ikoma! Wake up. You need to have this. Now!"

* * *

It was like color sweeping back into the world.

Ikoma swallowed down another mouthful of flower-dusted sweet rust-water, and blinked at all the eyes around him. Kajika, the kids, Lady Ayame, Kurusu and half a dozen other bushi, Hozumi looking relieved as he'd ever seen her - even Suzuki and Sukari, crowding in as if they were checking over a patched pressure cylinder.

And hanging in the back, Uryuu. Looking like someone'd hit him hard with a board.

"Is everyone okay?" Ikoma wondered. "What is this, anyway?" Besides something that wasn't trying to escape his stomach the hard way. Which was an utter _relief_.

"It's... honey-water." Kajika sounded dazed. "With a little salt. That's all."

She had to be joking. Only Kajika wouldn't play a prank on him; not like this. "It doesn't taste like honey."

"It's medicine." Hozumi crossed her arms, as if they were all being ridiculous. "That's what it always tastes like. Flower petals. Water. A little mucky."

"Rusty," Ikoma clarified, peering at a few drops left to see if he could spot any of the orange oxides he tasted. "Like rainwater from an old cistern pipe. It is sweet, but... this is honey?"

"I saw her mix it," Hozumi nodded. "Maybe it's like blood?"

Oh. _Oh_. He'd never wanted to bring that up, ever, but... it made sense. Damn. He could have asked her about the medicine forever, and they wouldn't have known how to find it right under their nose-

Kurusu's gaze was sharp as his blade. "How is it like blood?"

"Blood... doesn't taste the same," Ikoma said reluctantly. "You know how it's supposed to be. Bitter. Like rust, only brighter."

"You _would_ know what rust tastes like." Kajika seemed to finally relax a little, a bittersweet smile on her face. "You and Takumi, honestly..."

Kurusu said nothing. Only arched that sharp brow.

"It's different since that night," Ikoma admitted. "Warm. Even when it's not warm. Like... I don't know, spiced barley broth? The kind someone cooked a bone in for days." The kind that made his mouth water even now, thinking of that filling richness. He hunched on his bunk, reluctant to meet any eyes. "I tried not to think about it. Even water tasted weird. I thought it was the shock, but then it didn't stop. I - got used to it."

Ayame took a half-step forward. "Hozumi thinks this is the medicine for Kabaneri."

"It is," Hozumi insisted. "I can feel it. It's quiet in my head."

"It's helping." Ikoma tried not to shiver. "I didn't realize how hard it was getting to _think_. Blood made it go away for a while, but... everything's back. Clear." Now he was going to look up, no matter what it took. "I almost feel normal."

Like a gray shadow, Uryuu whirled and headed for the hatch stairs.

 _Who bit him?_ Ikoma wanted to ask. But that would have been a very bad joke. "Is everyone okay?" Because with his head so oddly clear, all the exhaustion panic had staved off was crashing in. "I know I should be up, there's so much to do-"

"Sleep." Kajika pushed him back down against the bunk. "Hozumi told us if this was the right medicine, you'd need it."

"Okay..."

Sleep. Without the slow-gnawing ache in his head, the constant gray despair creeping in on his soul. Without that ache in his arm he'd almost gotten used to, flesh and bone twinging as they tried to heal. Without the fear that those he cared about would be torn away by the Kabane. Just... sleep.

 _Cotton. Soft. Must be the pillow_...

* * *

Uryuu gripped the railing around the top of the locomotive's prow, and wished he could tear it to pieces with his bare hands.

 _Why, Biba? Maybe I'm no noble. Maybe I'm just a stupid station brat too stubborn to die. But I don't get it. Why? We were loyal. Willing to die for you. Willing to live for you, and kami know that was harder. So... why?_

Because if all the medicine did was keep the Kabane at bay - he'd heard nobles and their weird ideas about keeping hunting hawks and hounds a little hungry so they'd be sharp. If the Kabaneri needed that heart inside awake to sense the Kabane... well, then just enough rations of anything that swatted it down would make sense. Nasty sense, but sense. But if the Kabaneri needed their medicine to _think-!_

 _And Biba knew it. We all saw what he was like without enough sweet tea. He'd get tired. Sarcastic. Need_ time _to think things through. Nobody wanted that. We diced with death every time we went out with the Kabane. Anybody sleepy, injured - heck, even hay fever, we kept 'em off the front lines until they could think again. If the Kabaneri couldn't..._

They'd lost Hunters when Kabaneri slipped. And that... that'd meant the Kabaneri got shot, put down like screaming animals, when what they _should_ have done was grabbed the poor girls and drowned them in honey-water-

Gripping the railing, Uryuu banged his head against cold steel. Just once.

There. If he was crying, it was just the pain.

The river was quiet, at least. Soothing, if you ignored the splash of makeshift nets and the laughter of would-be fishermen around the crane. Farther down the train were other splashes, people hauling up small kegs of water to boil and drink. Like Hunters would, when they stopped on a bridge; seizing fresh water and the chance for sunlight without fear.

That was probably what was driving him so crazy. Being on the Koutetsujou... they weren't Hunters. But a lot of the things they did were the same. If he didn't think, he might forget that there were any enemies on this Hayajiro.

 _What the hell do I tell my men?_

Because the seven survivors with him might be a lot of things but they were not _stupid_. They'd already known Mumei thought Biba was Kabaneri. They knew how much honey he'd drunk. They knew Ikoma was sick. And now they'd hear that he was better; kami, so _much_ better, even in the bad light in the locomotive there'd actually been a little color in ghostly cheeks.

Hunters weren't stupid. They'd figure it out.

 _What the hell do I do?_

* * *

Ayame let Kurusu go before her up onto the prow. Uryuu had ostentatiously swaggered through the length of the Koutetsujou without a man to guard his back, keeping trouble at bay by the sheer nerve of acting as if all the bushi swords on the Koutetsujou wouldn't keep him from where he wanted to go.

She approved; it meant he could quietly leave his combat-worthy Hunters to guard those still in shock along with their bikes. But even if Uryuu had ordered them to stay, they had to be getting worried by now.

 _If he's still up here, he's upset_ , Ayame knew. _Why? He almost seems to like Hozumi, as much as he likes any of us. He should be glad she'll be safe. And Ikoma... well, he might not_ like _Ikoma, but he's practical. Another Kabaneri in fighting condition will make his men safer. So what's wrong?_

Uryuu glanced back at them both, then gripped the rail tighter.

 _Very upset_ , Ayame concluded, as Kurusu gauged the threat level, then fell in behind her. _I'll have to tread carefully_. "Ikoma's asleep. Mumei says that's normal when a wounded Kabaneri gets medicine. Something about it feeding the mind, so the body can finally relax?"

Half-gloved hands tightened; deliberately eased off a hair. "...Wouldn't know."

"It's very odd to watch," Ayame mused. "If you look at his arm... well, they don't look much like fingers now, but Mumei's sure they'll grow."

"Good," came the gritted reply. "Way he keeps throwing himself into trouble, he needs two hands."

Kurusu frowned. "Is there something amiss that threatens the Koutetsujou?"

"...No."

Ayame considered closing the distance between them, then dismissed the idea. They'd been enemies mere days before. Honest enemies, Uryuu had never hidden his ruthless streak, but enemies. He wouldn't want to take kindness.

 _So I won't be kind_. "You and your men are a part of the Koutetsujou's fighting forces," Ayame stated. "As the holder of the master key, I must be aware of anything that threatens our combat readiness. I know there is something wrong. Do you want to tell me, or do I ask Mumei to bring the children down to your car to see the bees?"

That drew a frozen blink. And a look filled with more dread than a bushi facing a whole horde of Kabane. "Are you crazy? The bees are cranky enough just going all day. At least right now they can get some water... don't you dare send kids in to bang on the hive. We need it."

He flinched even as he said it. Ayame weighed that, considering her next move. "Yes, we do," she agreed. "Does that bother you? You told us information about the Kabaneri was held close by the scientists. You couldn't have known."

" _I should have."_

 _This isn't good_ , Ayame thought. _But... that's guilt. The guilt of a leader, who's realized he was lacking. There's an opening here. If I tread carefully._ "What do you need?"

Hazel glanced at her, and away again. "Biba... Biba saved most of us. Some of us out of starving to death near the tracks. A lot of us right out of the wrecks of stations. Tomio - I don't even know what his name _was_. He's one of the few guys we pulled out of what was left of Tomio Station, after it was swallowed. Won't answer to anything else, not anymore. Oh, Biba always said he only saved us 'cause we fought to live - but damn it, _he saved us_."

"You owed him your loyalty," Ayame said softly.

"It wasn't just that!" A jerky breath; the Hunter's collar fluttered in the river breeze. "He _led_ us. Took the same risks as anyone. Got his hands dirty like everyone. Dragged up town brats and yanked down bushi noses and made sure we all. Knew. _Everything_ , about the guns and the bikes and even the little repairs on the Hayajiro. Just in case. Because we were all Hunters together, and if something goes wrong with the Kabane you don't have time to go hunt down a steamsmith. I learned how to _read_ because of him."

No wonder Uryuu seemed rough around the edges. He was. But if he'd come far enough to lead, then he was a stronger man than even he knew. "It's hard to change the ways you were taught," Ayame allowed. "My own uncle doesn't understand what we've done here on the Koutetsujou." She bent her head, letting some of her pain show. "My people have kept his alive, and all he can see is that they're _tainted_."

"Stings, huh?" A wry, bitter smile. "But you... you're just hurting. This is going to _kill_ my men."

Beside her, Kurusu stiffened. "You need a suicide watch?"

Ayame stifled a gasp, chilled. "But - we've fought so hard against the Kabane! Why would anyone want to die when we can still fight?"

"Because he _lied to us_." Uryuu hissed it, eyes damp. "He swore he was taking care of us, swore we were doing it all right, swore the Kabaneri fighting with us had everything his scientists could do to help!"

Ayame flinched, the depths of that treachery starting to become clear. "If the Kabaneri need medicine to think..."

"You don't throw muddle-headed fighters at the Kabane!" Uryuu gritted out. "It's a death warrant; for them, and everybody else around! And if he was willing to do that, to just _use them up_ like sword-wiping rags, and throw them away-!"

"Then you were all disposable," Kurusu finished, steel-eyed. "Hunters. Scientists. Kabaneri. None of you were truly his. Only... convenient tools to achieve his revenge." He paused. "As the Koutetsujou was, to gain entry to Kongokaku."

Uryuu touched his cheekguards, as if he wanted to bury his face in his hands. "This is going to kill my men."

It might. It very well might. The shame, the dishonor, the loss of all the good they thought they'd done in the world... The Hunters faced the Kabane. They knew how to suicide.

 _I can't let this happen. We need them! And... they're hard, but they're not evil. I won't let Biba kill them now!_ "You weren't the only ones he betrayed."

"Yeah." Hazel blinked at her, exhausted as if he'd fought the night through. "That's the point."

"So you've become the monsters all should fear." Kurusu's tone was cool. Unhurried. "I dealt with a man like that. I shot him off the Koutetsujou myself." The samurai stared the Hunter down. "And then Ikoma walked through the Kabane and saved us all."

Uryuu stared back, unwilling to yield. "The hell are you saying? He was one of yours, of course he would-"

"He was a monster," Kurusu cut him off. "A Kabane. That's all we knew. That's all _he_ knew. We saw the heart. I shot him off the Hayajiro to protect us all. And despite that he followed us. All the way to the drawbridge. When it jammed... he dragged himself through the horde, and threw the manual switch. Not because he loved Aragane. Because he hated the Kabane, and hated us, and he wanted us to live knowing a _monster_ had saved us all."

Ayame swallowed dryly, even as Uryuu started. If Ikoma had felt like that - if he still felt as betrayed as the Hunters did-

"He's had time to heal," Kurusu went on, more quietly. "And we... discovered Mumei was correct. Kabaneri are not monsters. Dangerous, and in need of care as fine as any blade. But not monsters." He eyed the Hunter. "Yet I will never forget that night. If honor and loyalty are not enough to keep your men clinging to this life - then tell them to live for _spite_."

Uryuu twitched. Straightened, as if standing between them and his wounded men.

 _He's thinking of them, not his own hurts. Good!_ Ayame nodded fiercely. "You've already begun. Your men are alive. You have allies. You slay the Kabane. You _are_ the Hunters you wished to be. If Biba betrayed you, then defeat him! Make the dream _real_."

"Allies?" Uryuu gave her a narrow look. "You forget, Princess. You're just taking us to the next station."

"I forget nothing." Ayame stood straight as the steel of the bridge about them. "I offered you my protection so long as you are aboard the Koutetsujou." She paused, then drove the words home. "I will not withdraw it. On the Koutetsujou, in Aragane - station or Hayajiro, we will treat your men as our own. They've earned it. You all have."

For a moment she thought she'd offered too much. Uryuu was stiff and pale, not daring to believe...

A splash caught their attention, one of the crane operators swearing as three men tried to manhandle a catfish almost as tall as they were out of the net.

"Oi!" Uryuu cupped his fingers around his mouth so they'd hear. "Put some gloves on, you morons! The fins have spines!"

The yell he got back made Ayame blush, even as Kurusu scowled fierce enough to set soaked ropes on fire, fish and all. But their fishermen were handling the net more carefully.

Uryuu dropped his hands, shoulders a little less tense. "I need to talk to my men." He looked them both up and down, as if he wasn't sure what to say next, either. "...We'll think about it."

* * *

Kibito leaned against the conference room wall, watching Kurusu and their lady confer and scribble on scraps of paper. "That looks like a long list."

"It's just a start," Ayame admitted, putting her brush down. "We spoke to Uryuu, and I mentioned that the Hunters would have our protection in Aragane. And then I started thinking about that. Reopening the station... we'll need so _much_."

"We will," Kibito agreed. He'd thought about it, a little, after hearing Ayame proclaim that as her Tanabata wish. But only a little. Surviving here and now took almost everything they had. Focus too much on the future, and the weight of everything they didn't have might crush them. "I think the hardest part might be finding enough people."

Kurusu gave him a mild scowl; the kind most saw as bushi ferocity.

 _Heh. That's just, "so what else is the world throwing at us this time?"_ Kibito knew. "Well, think about it. Food, weapons, gunpowder, steel and concrete to repair breaches in the walls - we'll need all of those. They won't be easy to get, but with enough time and funds, we might be able to do it. But people? Men and women willing to risk their necks to fight the Kabane, to drive them out of a swallowed station and take it back... _and_ willing to live with Kabaneri?"

Because sooner or later that secret would get out. Hopefully later. But there were over three hundred of Aragane and Yashiro on this Hayajiro who knew damn well what Ikoma and Hozumi were. Even if a slip was more likely to be pride than fear - somebody _would_ slip. Eventually.

"I know," Ayame nodded. "That's why I want the Hunters. If they'll join us."

 _Urk_. "That won't be easy," Kibito warned. Though damned if it didn't make sense. "I know they're trained, and they don't mind Kabaneri..."

"They're more than trained. They're experienced," Ayame said firmly. "They know they can fight the Kabane and live. They know how to survive between stations. They know how to teach other people to do the same. They're a _treasure_. If all Biba could think to do was throw them away - well, I won't!"

"No one's going to forgive them soon," Kurusu stated. "They know it. We know it. But they've shown they are acting in good faith... and word about the honey is spreading." A twitch of a smile. "Hozumi bouncing around with the children is the best evidence in the Hunters' favor."

It was definitely a good start, Kibito had to admit. "They were working to take our world back, with just a Hayajiro and Biba's name to lean on," he observed. "Think they could do more with a live station to back them?"

"So much more," Ayame agreed softly. "With a station to come back to, they could let their wounded heal between battles. They could train new Hunters safely, before their first fight. They could rearm, have their weapons maintained, restock on ammunition. They could work with us to develop new weapons. Better weapons! And they wouldn't be alone, because when I reopen Aragane, we won't stay behind the walls. We'll go out and hunt the Kabane down! Again and again, as long as it takes. If we can do that, if we can keep doing that... we won't just reopen Aragane. We'll reopen Yashiro, and Hayatani, and even Tomio Station! Biba lied; we'll make it the truth! We'll take our whole world back."

Kurusu cast Kibito a glance he could read like a book: _So who sounds like Ikoma now?_

Heh. Well, they needed that dream, but they also needed to focus on the next moment. "It'll be hard to keep the Hunters with us that long," Kibito reflected. "They're used to living in a Hayajiro. Made sense, for them; it may be harder to get supplies, but it was a lot easier to hide the Kabaneri when they were just visiting stations."

"They wish they didn't need the stations," Ayame mused. "I wish we didn't, either. But even if we had enough food and supplies, there's just not enough room-"

She stopped, eyes wide. Set the list carefully down, and rushed out the door.

Kibito followed hard on Kurusu's heels. He didn't _think_ there was an emergency, their lady was responsible about warning them if she saw trouble they didn't, but if not, why the hurry?

"Yukina!" Ayame stopped just at the top of the stairs, dodging a piece of shiny steel some enterprising steamsmith had angled to beam sunlight down into the locomotive's darker nooks and crannies. "Yukina, how many cars could the Koutetsujou add?"

Going over a logbook with Nidai, their conductor looked up, bemused. "How many...?" The redhead cast a glance at her second-watch apprentice. "Based on the wyes we've seen... two?"

"Maybe a third, if we could find one of the half-length cars the nobles used to use years ago," the dark-haired steamsmith agreed. "More than that and turning in an emergency would be," he coughed into a fist, "difficult."

Kibito watched Kurusu's eye twitch, and tried not to smirk at that understatement. Yes, by now they all had a fairly good idea of how much space there was to turn at a wye, and what would and wouldn't make the Koutetsujou derail if they had to push things to the limit. _Difficult_. Indeed.

"Two cars," Ayame mused, one hand near her lips as if she wanted to shield unseemly excitement. "Even one would be cheaper than trying to rebuild part of Aragane. Yes?"

"Unless we come up with incredible salvage, or someone at the next station has cargo they have to have moved, we won't be able to afford a new car." Yukina put a fist on her hip. "Lady Ayame-"

"We do have a cargo." Violet eyes were incredibly fierce. "It may not be a great deal, not yet. But we have salvage, and raw skins, and blueprints. And a fresh beehive; anyone cropping the fields inside a station will be glad to see that! We should be able to trade those for enough supplies for our people. And if we can deliver my uncle's people and whoever wants to leave the Hayajiro to the safety of the next station, then..."

Ayame trailed off, as every eye in earshot turned toward her, wide with shock.

Kurusu broke the stunned silence. "Whoever wants to _leave?_ "

Their lady took a long, deep breath. "I have an idea."

* * *

"The stations have two difficulties." Ayame swept her hand over a map of Hi-no-moto, marked with stations they knew were alive or dead. "They need to trade with each other to survive, and they need to be able to hold off the Kabane hordes."

Gathered around the conference room table, Aragane's Elders and Mura from Yashiro nodded. "That is what the Hayajiro are for," graying Shimizu pointed out gravely. "To bring cargo and passengers between stations, and... if our lady will permit the honesty, to draw the hordes away from the walls by their passage."

"Not that it helps when Kabane smash Hayajiro _through_ the walls," bare-chested Fuyuki growled.

"We can help with both of those," Ayame stated. "If we spread the design of jet bullets to every station we visit, each station lord and every Hayajiro crew can start killing the Kabane beyond the walls. _Killing_ them, not just driving them off. The Kabane are many, but they are not infinite. If every station can kill the Kabane that approach their walls, the walls will hold. If every Hayajiro can kill the Kabane that attack it, they will survive. Travel will become easier. _Trade_ will be easier. If we make that happen - then we will be able to gain the resources and supplies to reopen Aragane."

"Lady Ayame." Kurusu, silent and steady behind her. "The stations hold many who are brave. But as many or more who are frightened, to the point of abandoning all honor. Simply trading the design for jet bullets will not be enough."

"No, it won't be," Ayame agreed. "Not without an example." This. This was the moment that might break everything. "What if the folk of the Koutetsujou became that example? What if we - all of us who are willing to live beyond walls - keep traveling?"

"Lady Ayame?" Shimizu started, as the other Elders muttered. "Those of Kongokaku would never agree to this."

Which, as Ayame was sure everyone could guess, was exactly why none of them were here. "Elder Dogen Makino has expressed to me his doubts of some of our fighters," Ayame said neutrally. "He wishes to remove his folk from the Koutetsujou at the next station that will harbor them. Given his rank in the shogun's court, it is likely any station lord would agree to take them in. I intend that we honor his request." She gifted them all with a smile. "We could use the room!"

That drew a few chuckles, even as the men looked thoughtfully at each other. "Food will still be a problem." Mura frowned, and crossed his arms, obviously remembering three horrible days in Yashiro Station, hoping beyond hope that a Hayajiro would arrive to rescue them in time. "What we've gathered so far helps, but... land foraging is risky. And odds are, bridges won't always be safe."

"We need more of the bikes," Kurusu stated. "And their fuel. If we can send out enough outriders to screen hunting and foraging parties, the Kabane will be less of a threat." The samurai gave them all a milder look. "That would also give us more options for evacuations and rail repairs, if they are needed. A cautious rider can travel between stations on a bike alone."

Mura nodded, and glanced at his fellow Elders.

 _Bikes and fuel_ , Ayame wrote down, and waited.

"There are many trades that can't be done on a Hayajiro, Lady Ayame," Shimizu observed. "Dyeing cloth. Forging anything larger than the locomotive's furnaces allow." He waved a hand at his nose, as if wafting away a horrible stink. "I won't even _begin_ to mention leatherwork."

"Hides won't do us much good if we can't get them to a station to work. Though a little more room might let us weave," Fuyuki mused. "It'd make the women happier, that's for sure. Anything that gave us more quiet would. You grow up thinking a station's crowded? Around here you can't get from one end of town to the other without bumping into _everyone_ else. And there are things that... well. Women need privacy for some things. You know that, Lady Ayame."

Yes, she did. Her rank and the locomotive had allowed her more privacy than most, yet Ayame still felt the loss of moments to just be alone. "We could use some of the salvaged cloth for curtains," she offered, making another note. "It doesn't have to be strong for that."

"If we could obtain another car, we could arrange it for those practicing crafts that require intense concentration," Kurusu stated. "In the meantime, while we must keep the sortie car reasonably clear in case of emergencies, there is no reason we could not set up a schedule for its use. Even the most fierce bushi cannot practice the rifle, bow, or sword all day and all night."

Which was a heart-clenching concession, and everyone knew it. Oh, of course combat training would have priority, the Koutetsujou couldn't afford anything less. But to allow everyone else time in that car was a sacrifice of the bushi's own privacy. One her Elders accepted with bowed heads, and renewed glances at each other, full of determination.

Shimizu lifted his head. "This will require some thought, Lady Ayame."

"From all of us," Ayame said honestly. "If the maps are true, including those from the Hunters... there is a little-known route, not used by anyone else for years, that could take us back to Shitori Station." She traced the rail markings with a finger. "It would break the Koutetsujou's normal schedule, but with Kongokaku gone the schedules will be broken in any case. Shitori knows us, and they might be able to use accurate news to their advantage." And they'd be able to reunite with those they'd had to leave behind, ill and wounded. She knew everyone wanted that.

Fuyuki frowned, and studied the map again. "That route will take at least five days?"

"But Shitori has jet bullets," Mura noted, leaning over to look himself. "So they're probably still in one piece. Even if the Kabane are getting smarter."

"And there aren't many shorter routes," Shimizu muttered. "None that we _know_ there will be a station alive at the end." He looked up again, and nodded at her. "We will use that time well, Lady Ayame. Once we see Shitori's walls again, we should know if we can make a life on the Koutetsujou."

* * *

 _I'm not going to swear_ , Ikoma told himself, braced against the side of the sortie car as strong fingers poked and prodded like hot iron rods. _I'm not going to swear. I'm not going to_ \- "Damn it, Kurusu!"

"You need the use of this hand back." The samurai didn't sound a bit sorry, as he kept working on stubby flesh and bones. Concerned, maybe, but _not_ sorry. "We don't know enough about Kabaneri; we have to give you the best treatment for a human. Injured hands need to be strengthened as they recover. These are the best exercises we know."

 _Breathe in. Breathe out_. "You do this all the time?"

"Since we were old enough to start on blades," Kibito put in, glancing over from where he was checking the main rifles, while Keisuke and other bushi went over beginning lessons on aim with Aragane townsmen. And one or two determined women. "You're older; it's going to hurt a lot. Kurusu's the best to show you how to keep it up anyway. He's not as tender-hearted as I am." Kibito grinned. "Well, not where it _shows_."

That earned him Kurusu's glare. Ikoma bit back a laugh, pain or no pain.

"Show me how to do that?" Hozumi leaned her elbows on a stack of stray supplies, watching intently. "If there's a way to hold onto weapons more strongly, I want to know."

Ikoma grimaced, thinking of how the Wazatori had disarmed her in Yashiro Station. "It might not matter as much with a rifle, but... that would be good."

"It's nothing as simple as strength." Kurusu went back to his painful kneading. "There is flexibility. Knowing the angle you need, so an enemy's force has to fight not only your fingers' grip, but the leverage of your bones and body. It is..." He paused, thinking. "Focusing only on your hands is similar to having only a short wrench."

Ikoma started, following that through. "You can get in close, but if the bolt's really stubborn - you need lubricant. And a longer wrench, so you can get your whole body into it."

Kurusu raised a brow at _lubricant_ , but nodded. "Leverage. Steel, flesh and bone - it is the same."

Steel didn't bleed. But he'd have to think about the rest of it. If fighting was like engineering, if there were underlying principles that made sense - maybe he could figure out how to fight better.

Quiet murmurs rippled through the car. Ikoma looked up as Kurusu let go, watching Uryuu and Eishun walk down the car toward them.

 _A little less swagger_ , Ikoma thought. _Maybe they're starting to believe that we're not going to kill them_.

Uryuu scanned the car to double-check who was and wasn't there, then nodded at Kurusu. "You're going to get trouble from Kongokaku in a few days."

 _Oh, that's not ominous_ , Ikoma thought, straightening away from the wall.

But that was Uryuu being blunt, not threatening. And apparently Kurusu was willing to take it that way. "Why?" the samurai asked calmly.

"'Cause in about two days this track's going to take us through Keishi," Uryuu stated. "And maybe border stations like Aragane don't know that name, but I guarantee you some of those bastard nobles from Kongokaku do."

"Keishi..." Kibito frowned. "The old temple city?"

Ikoma let out a slow breath. "It's one of the first places the Kabane appeared in Hi-no-moto. I don't know if it's the first. There weren't a lot of survivors." At Uryuu's startled look, he shrugged. "I've looked for _everything_ I could find on the Kabane. Where they came from. What they're vulnerable to. What we don't know. Some of the oldest reports I could find came from crazy Keishi survivors. They're... not easy to read."

Uryuu still looked startled, if thoughtful. Eishun chewed his lip, then nodded, as if that only made sense. "Should be safe," the scarfed Hunter offered. "No prey for almost twenty years? Kabane should have moved out. But..."

"But the Kongokaku will consider the land accursed," Kurusu finished for him. "We will inform Lady Ayame." He paused. "Though she would not look unkindly on a visit. You lead the Hunters. It is your right."

"We'll think about it." Uryuu frowned at Ikoma. "And what are _you_ thinking?"

Besides trying _not_ to think about some of the panicked accounts from people who had no idea what Kabane were, only that the dead wouldn't stay dead? "I think we can use this," Ikoma said honestly. "People ran away from Keishi in a panic. Worse than evacuating a station. They didn't know what was happening. How fast they had to run. How much they should leave behind. How to defend themselves, when the Kabane caught them." He faced Uryuu straight on, knowing the Hunter understood hard-edged _need_. "I don't know what we'll find for salvage, but odds are we can find enough to supply the Koutetsujou, if we trade it at a station."

"Take what the dead left behind?" Uryuu's mouth curved in a wry smile. "Careful. I might get to like you."

Kibito whistled. "Dogen's people won't be happy."

"They aren't happy now," Hozumi _hmph_ ed. "I want to live. I want to see if we can bring Aragane back. I want to eat rice!"

 _That last one might take a while_ , Ikoma thought. _I don't know why solid food makes us sick. I don't know if anybody would know, besides Biba's doctors, and they're all dead_.

Which made him angry at Biba all over again. There weren't enough doctors already, and he'd tangled up some of the few that were left in crazy murderous plots. And all the medical texts they would have had would have been on the Kokujou-

Hozumi poked him. "What?"

"People in Keishi would have run, and left a lot of heavy things behind," Ikoma said slowly, feeling the idea out. "I used to have anatomy books, to design the piercing gun..." And the hanging rig. And it'd _worked_. "Books are heavy. And the reports say a lot of doctors got bitten _first_."

"Their work might have been left behind," Kurusu nodded. "Does it matter? We know how to kill the Kabane."

"It matters," Ikoma said fiercely. "Yes, we can kill them. But where did they _come from?_ "

-End.

* * *

A/N: Honey and Kabaneri: It's canon they have human brains. (Well, mostly human - they're picking up Kabane _somehow_ that isn't through normal senses. See TV Tropes' WMG on Kabane and mass minds.) Active brains need glucose. Heck, some of Mumei's bad decisions in ep 5 and 6 could easily be low blood sugar. Granted, you _can_ get by on just protein for a while, your body can strip that down for calories, but any time you use a lot of concentration (such as, say, trying to control inhuman strength and reflexes in the middle of a life-or-death fight) your brain is going to _demand_ sugar. This seemed like the simplest way to provide the Kabaneri "medicine" that exists in canon and have it be something that would actually work.

Also, given this is something that Biba as a Kabaneri _needs himself_ \- well, frankly, it had to be something simple. Or he'd never have figured it out in time to keep from going mindless.

Allergies were first named and identified in 1906. But food intolerance has probably been known in one form or another since the dawn of human history, and mushrooms are a pretty safe bet as "we don't have this every day."


End file.
